


The Newspaper

by UniversalPie



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Although I think Horror's a lot nicer than most people, Anyways, Cuddling, Do you remember how this all started from newspapers in the basement, Don't worry, Drunken Confession, Drunkenness, Edge becomes hostile again, Edge carries them, Fluff, Horror and Mango get face paint, Horror's actually just like any one else, I don't think it counts as a fight actually, I feel like I'm forgetting something, I think these tags are getting kinda long, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Just a thought, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mentions of Rape, Mild Hurt/Mild Comfort, Mild Language, Not so much Red and Horror, Papyrus get's stuffed toys because he's a boss at the mini-game things, Papyrus is sad, Protective Red, Red almost does, Red and Sans make it like some self-appointed quest to get them alcohol, Red finally makes that guide, Red's still very depressed, Rude - Freeform, Sans becomes protective again, Sans does not like horror rides, Sans likes wild rides, Sans passes out, Sans starts doubting him, Self-Harm, So do the papyri, Therapy, There's some jackass teenager, Underfell Papyrus feels guilty, Underfell Sans has DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder), Underfell Sans has issues, Underfell Sans is clueless, Underfell sans is a freeloader, Underswap bros don't really play a big part in this, also, although he denies it, and also, and constantly hungry, and cotton candy, and ends up sort of pouting, and suffocation i guess, and wow what an experience, angst i think, anyway, bar "fight", barely any plot, bone touching, but he doesn't, but it's not a good one, but it's not too bad, but that's because papyrus likes everyone, but that's reasonable, but they visit every month, cautious sans, completely unsanitary kissing, crazy how all of this started from a couple newspapers, cuz I don't, edge cheers him up, he apologizes though, he doesn't want anything to with them, he get's tired, he gets a kiss, he likes pushing, he's a cinnamon roll, he's only here for a few minutes, horrortale brothers show up, hostile edge, how though is a mystery, i dunno, i probably am, i suck at summaries, it ain't good folks, it all works out, it stays above the belt though, it's only a mystery cuz i didn't write it, just a little weirder, just give it awhile, just in the background, like seriously, logical arguments, mango helps with breathing, mentions of abuse, no one really likes them except for papyrus, not just with the horror bros, oh right, oh well, ok i did something about the swap bros dilemma, plus caramel corn, protective sans and horror, psych refrences, really just undertale sans and the fell bros, red apologizes, red does, red gets sassy, red wins, so done with tags, so they're not gone completely, still practically kid friendly, stretch helps him though, stutter issues, stuttering again, suspicious activity between edge and papyrus, thankfully no one gets sick, that sounds weird, that's a good idea actually, the horror bros still don't know about hang-overs, the horror brothers have never had alcohol, there's a fair in town!, there's some, these are not in order, they eventually get alcohol, they move out, they think they just got bad headaches, unless you're mature, very sensitive about his hieght, whatever, why did I make this, won't tolerate short jokes, wouldn't recommend to anyone younger than ten, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-05-20 00:11:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 52,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversalPie/pseuds/UniversalPie
Summary: Red decides that he's going to be less productive than usual and waste his time by reading newspapers in the basement. He skims through the headlines, until one catches his attention-- "A skeleton taking up arson?" No one he knew had done that... Unless of course setting their kitchen on fire counts as arson, then no skeleton he knew was an arsonist. When he decides to confront his brother about it, Red ends up even more lost than before, while everyone else gets more answers than they'd like. (The actual story is better than the summary, I promise)Or in other words, Red is an depressed clueless skele, and has DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) and very troubling issues that everyone tries to fix. They all have to come to terms with some very uncomfortable truths about themselves as well.





	1. Okay, no, really, what's going on?

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm aware I'm not that great of a writer, and there may be some things that don't make much sense, or there might be typos. Feel free to ask about the questionable writings I have written here, and please don't hesitate to point out typos. Criticism is welcome. So are compliments :P

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red is banned from the town while everyone else is going, and his phone is dead so he's sifting through the old newspapers that come with the house.  
> When he comes across some... interesting headlines, he confronts his brother. 
> 
> Self-harm warning!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I'm a pie in space, writing this, because... I liked the idea! I hope everyone else does, too! 
> 
> Also, the first few chapters aren't exactly my favorite, but I can't seem to fix them. So, if the first couple seem off, then I promise that it'll probably get better by the later chapters. 
> 
> If there's any questions, please feel free to ask! Constructive criticism is welcome! So are compliments :P
> 
> There's also self-harm mentions in this chapter, if that's a trigger for any of you. But it's also pretty much a re-occurring theme in this story, although everyone gets a happy ending! 
> 
> ...Eventually.

Red was sifting through old newspapers, because he honestly had nothing better to do. Sans and all the others were out of the house (Red wasn’t allowed to go because he threatened someone last time and physically assaulted another person. But in his defense, they had both insulted his brother!), his phone was dead, and their TV was broken. So, newspapers. 

He picked up an article dating back to last week, last month, and even last year.

Goodness, this place was old.

They were currently living in an abandoned house in the middle of the woods, and they’d found these old newspapers in the basement, but no one’s had the chance to look through them.

Maybe when the others get back, Red can surprise them with useless information.

He decided to skim through the headlines for anything interesting.

“Dog and Cat Stuck in Same Tree and Fight Each Other” … “Monsters Rise from the Underground” … 

He remembered that day. Red and his brother, Edge, had ended up in Sans’s world before they were let out of the underground. How though, he was unsure. And what his world was like, was another question on it's own. His brother refused to tell him. They had stayed with the two other brothers until another pair showed up. The swap bros. Those two were interesting to say the least. Red avoided them for the most part though. 

Red could remember everything that occurred after he showed up in Alphys’ lab, but if he tried to remember anything before that, his head started to hurt, so he’d have to stop and think about something else. Red didn’t mention anything about it, although he might be a little more transparent than he would like. Sans seemed to know about his gap in memory. Red could tell from the things that flash in his eyes and the twitch of his smile. Right? Maybe it was something else. Maybe he was wrong. That wasn’t unusual.

Red continued to sift through the newspapers, but he wasn’t really looking at them anymore.

His gaps in memory bothered him a lot. Occasionally, he would just wake up and a few days have passed, and when he asked everyone about it, they just looked to the side uncomfortably, and told him not to worry about it. Sometimes he would wake up and there’d be something new in his room, or the furniture was re-organized. One time, all the clothes in his room were clean and folded! When he confronted his brother, Papyrus, and Blueberry, they all denied doing it.

It was very confusing. Especially since he had the feeling that it wasn’t very normal.

Red sighed and went back to focusing on the newspapers.

“Child Drops His Ice-Cream Cone and Assaults the Vendor” … “Skeleton Monster Sets Fire to a House” …

Wait what?

Who did that?

He threw away the newspaper with the murderous ice cream child, focusing all of his attention solely on the arsonist paper.

He didn’t remember anyone doing that, and as far as Red knew, he, and the others, were the only skeleton monsters around. No one in the household seemed like the type to take up arson as a hobby, not even Edge.

He couldn’t remember seeing that on the news, or hearing anyone yelling at someone for that stupid decision. No one else was grounded with him! If someone in this household had done that, then they'd be stuck here with Red.

He looked at the date of the incident. He tried to think back to anything that happened that day, but he couldn’t remember anything until a few days after. He usually kept close tabs on the date due to his bad memory and tried to match certain events to certain days. Example: January 6th, 200X, Edge removes glass and vinegar from his lasagna recipe and it tastes a thousand times better.

Red keeps the dates and major events in a journal under his mattress, but he carries a little one with him always, just in case he forgets what happened before he got home.

He took out his mini-journal and flipped through the pages looking for the day it said on the newspaper.

There was nothing written for that day, the next, and the next after that, until finally, there was a day with writing on it. It said:

 

 **March 14, 201X—Everyone around the house is acting off, and is actively avoiding the stove and oven. I got a surprise hug from Edge today.**  
**I’m sitting on the couch watching TV, alone. No one has hung out with me all day. I guess tomorrow will be the “ask for anything and we’ll give it to you” day. Not looking forward to it.**

 

Red sighed, scratching the back of his head.

Every day after he wakes up with no memory of the past few days, everyone avoids him, with the occasional exception of his brother, who’ll just stand there and watch him, making him nervous.

When he’d finally ask what was wrong, Edge would just walk away.

The next day, he usually woke up to breakfast in bed, prepared by all the “culinary geniuses” in the household. After a couple tries they got better at it, and the bacon he’d get every morning was less charcoal-like, and the pancakes were a little less black.

When he eventually got out of his room, he would be asked what he wanted to do, and his usual reply was “nothing”, so everyone around the house would hang out with him and do nothing. They’d watch TV, always letting him choose the shows, and whenever he stood up to get food or something, the others would immediately get it for him instead.

It made him uncomfortable. He didn’t like getting attention that he never earned, and he didn’t like how much he was freeloading. (Red couldn’t get a job, because he always assaulted his co-workers, and he’d get fired from each job the first week or so. But they had completely deserved it! So, since he didn't get any money, he didn't contribute to anything around the house.)

He never liked those days.

But he liked the day after that one even less.

The third day after one of his “memory gaps”, as he liked to call them, he’d get taken to a therapist.

He didn’t know why, and he always fought against everyone trying to get him there. No one liked the therapy days.

Red always eventually ended up there, usually from Sans’s pleading and Edge’s forcefulness, but he always told the therapist that nothing new had transpired. He did briefly mention his memory gaps once, and that caught the therapist’s attention. They pried into that subject more, so he admitted that he did sometimes wake up with no memory of how he got there, or the days prior. After they had inquired about his past, he had just shrugged and said he didn’t remember anything about it. They had nodded and jotted a few things down on a clipboard.

They asked how well he slept, and he said he slept fine, even if the dark bags under his eye sockets told otherwise.

They asked how well he did in social situations, and he said he did fine, even if his twitching fingers said differently.

After a couple days, he was prescribed medication, and that was even worse than the therapy days.

He would refuse to take the pills, and every time, Edge would have to come and shove it down his "throat". (No one else would dare try to stick their hand in his mouth, because they knew his pointy teeth weren’t just for show.) Red hated to admit that the medication actually helped him sleep at night, and they helped him feel less anxious around others. Sans would always stay by him though, making sure nothing went wrong.

Red didn’t like the medication, and he would hole up in his room for hours after he took the pills. Sometimes Sans would keep him company, and they’d just talk for a couple hours. Occasionally, Red would take a step back, and see just how good of a friend Sans was. He'd emphasize on the word friend, for his own sake. 

Sometimes though, in his room when he was alone, he’d take off his jacket, and would pick at the scars and cracks adorning his arms, causing a thin stream of marrow to leak out, never letting the cuts and carvings heal fully. It hurt, but it made him feel like he could control something in his life.

No one knew about the scars, of course. Not even his therapist. He wouldn’t talk to them, not unless he was forced to. Which he was.

It was one of the things he couldn’t control.

All of the things that happen after his memory gaps make him wonder... What exactly happened during those days?

Red looked back to the newspapers and kept looking through them, setting the arson paper to the side for later.

“Oceans: The secret Killer?” … “Skeleton Monster Being the First Monster to Donate Hundreds of Dollars to a Non-Profit Organization to Help Find a Cure for Mental Illnesses. Ironic?” …

Huh? What’s ironic about that?

Red knew that Blueberry or Papyrus would happily donate to finding a cure for mental illnesses, but he couldn’t find any irony in that.

He decided to read further into the article.

“...The very same skeleton monster who had taken up arson, with repeated offenses had seemed to donate hundreds of dollars to finding cures to mental illnesses. The organization had moved on to use this money to…”

Red looked at the paper in confusion.

So, maybe there _was_ another skeleton monster out there?

That could possibly be it, but he wasn’t sure. At this point, Red wasn’t sure about anything.

Maybe he should ask Edge or Sans about it when they got home? Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

Red folded up the newspaper, tucking it into his pocket, along with his mini-journal.

He’d confront them about it later.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Red was sitting in the living room, scrolling through his phone (which was now fully charged), when he heard the door creak open.

He swiveled his head and watched as all the members of the household filed in, holding different bags.

“Hey guys,” Red greeted, and stood up. “Ya need any help or somethin’?” 

Sans shook his head and Papyrus piped up from the kitchen, putting something away. “NO, THAT’S QUITE ALRIGHT. THANKS FOR OFFERING THOUGH.”

Edge, Stretch, and Blueberry were placing things on the table, pulling out random knickknacks out of multi-colored bags.

“WELL, SINCE YOU’RE UP, BROTHER, I COULD USE SOME HELP WITH THE NEW DRESSER IN THE TRUNK OF MY CAR.”

Red blinked, but shrugged and agreed to help him, despite his brother ever needing his help with something physical was astounding.

Also, Red didn’t think that they needed a new dresser, but whatever.

Putting all of that aside, Red followed his brother outside to his car. It was almost dark outside, but there was still enough light out to guide them around trailing roots and stray bushes until they reached the clearing that held their cars.

When they got to his black sports car, Edge turned around to face his brother, his arms crossed.

“SHOW ME YOUR ARMS,” Edge demanded without decorum.

“Umm, why? Weren’t we gettin' a dresser?” Red asked, looking to the side uneasily.

“SHOW. ME. YOUR. ARMS.” His brother repeated, his face looking cold.

Red held out his arms, without pulling up his sleeves or taking his jacket off.

Edge glared, making Red’s anxiety start to kick in. He didn’t know why, but he felt unreasonably afraid of his brother sometimes, though he tried not to show it. He got the feeling his brother knew though.

Without a word, Edge grabbed his arm pulling up his jacket sleeve and his long-sleeve sweater, revealing the first couple inches of his radius and ulna.

Red stiffened and tried to pull away, making a tiny noise in the back of his throat, but Edge’s grip remained firm and he continued pulling the sleeve up, showing a few cracks and cuts.

Edge’s eyes flared briefly, before he shut his eyes tight, letting go of his arm.

“What. The. Hell?” Edge asked, voice strained.

“W-well, u-um. T-they—I--it wasn’t… U-um…” That damn stutter. Every time he felt anxious, he would start tripping over his words, and it never failed to annoy him, though Edge didn’t seem to mind too much. He seemed too peeved to care about it anyway.

“Sans. Tell me the truth. What happened?” Edge asked, uncharacteristically quiet.

Red looked confused glancing around, pulling his sleeves down over hands. It was a nervous-tick for him.

“Sans? He’s out here?” He asked, hoping Sans hadn't seen his scars.

Edge blinked, and he looked mildly irritated. “Alright, smartass. Very funny.”

“Bro, my name ain’t Sans, it’s Red.”

“NO ONE ELSE IS OUT HERE, SO I THOUGHT THAT I COULD USE YOUR ACTUAL NAME! SO, _SORRY_ FOR THINKING THAT!” Edge shouted, enraged.

Red flinched, but he was still confused. “B-but that i-isn’t my name?”

Edge looked at him, eyes glowing a fierce scarlet, before they dimmed at his look of genuine confusion. “You… really don’t remember?”

“I don’t remember lots a stuff, so probably not.” Red laughed bitterly. “All I really know is that there was stuff 'fore I woke up in the lab at Alphys’ but I can’t remember the specifics.”

Edge stared for a moment, before looking at him dubiously. “Yeah? You’re not just pulling my leg?” Red shook his head. “Right, okay. Then what’s my name?”

“Edge,” Red answered, a little curious where this was going. What else would it be?

Edge sighed and grabbed Red into a hug that lasted more than a couple seconds.

“So, what’s with the cuts on your arms? Did someone do that to you? Do I need to beat someone up?” Edge asked when they pulled away.

Red looked to the side, a little ashamed. “Uhm, no…” _Okay, it’s just like a band-aid, tell him really quick._ “I-I did it.”

Edge startled for a moment before glaring at him. “What?” He hissed.

Red flinched at his tone for the second time.

"U-uh, well, okay, let me explain. S-so, um well, that—the, uh, cuts and all, were my p-punishment…? For uh… doing…” Red trailed off at Edge’s look he gave him, but he gestured for him to keep going. “T-they were my… punishment for thinking things I shouldn’t have thought.”

That was only partially true. Red felt as if telling his brother that he hurt himself because it distracted him from the things Edge was doing _for_ him, which made him feel less in control of his life, wasn’t the smartest move. It also seemed pretty rude. 

Edge waited for Red to elaborate, so, he did. “I-I mean, y’know, like, murderous or just horrible thoughts. Like, someone was mean to me, er pushed me, er tripped me er somethin’ an’ I just thought about killin’ ‘em or hurtin' 'em worse. Even some of the others in the house. But I didn’t hurt them, an’ instead I hurt myself for thinkin’ that, hopin' it'd work like discipline, an' I could "train" it outta my system. Clearly it didn't work... Although… it doesn’ really _feel_ like they’re my thoughts…” Red said, more to himself than anything, but he immediately shut his mouth when he realized what he said and how loud he'd said it. He hadn’t even told his therapist that information, but here he was, accidentally spilling his secrets to his brother.

Edge looked confused for a second, then a look of realization and horror crossed his features.

“W-wait, I-I’m sorry, please j-just forget I said anything—”

“You have DID.” Edge interrupted him.

Red stopped and paled. “W-what?”

“You have DID. Dissociative Identity Disorder. Formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder. Where someone has seemingly multiple consciousnesses inside their head, and they may come across as voices. The different personalities may take control of the body for periods of time causing lapses in the memory. Then, they wake up, completely ignorant of what occurred. DID may be caused by a traumatizing past, which is pretty much your case if I’d have to guess.” Edge rubbed the back of his neck, no longer looking at his brother. “I’ve read a lot about disorders.” He explained, glancing at Red.

Red was shaking now. He could hear his bones rattling, but he only hoped his brother couldn’t. “W-wait, but I can’t remember my p-past.”

Edge sighed. “Dissociative amnesia. Where someone might have memory problems with a traumatic event as the person tries to unknowingly dissociate with their memory, or something like that. I didn’t read too much about that, so it may not be too accurate.”

Red was trembling now.

 _No, no, I can’t be the one who donated_ months _of hard-earned cash that wasn’t even_ mine _, or the one who set_ fire _to a damn_ building! _I don’t have DID, it’s just a coincidence that I have memory lapses or that I can’t remember my past! I probably just have a bad memory and normal amnesia or whatever. Yeah that’s it. I must've just hit my head at Alphys's lab._

**_I completely agree. I mean, of course you don’t have DID, otherwise you’d be in a mental home right now. Right?_**

_But, I’ve never told anyone about the whole thing and—wait no, you’re just part of my head. I shouldn’t be referring to you as if you were a separate being! You're just an extension of my brain, nothing else!_

**_But, technically, aren’t_ your _thoughts just extensions from your brain as well?_ **

_What? I don’t know! Why are you so confusing?? Just shut up!_

“BROTHER!” Edge shouted at him, breaking him out of his stupor.

Red had started scratching at his skull, leaving thin lines with marrow trailing down the side of his face, and his brother’s soul was turned red, held above the ground by several feet.

Red’s hold immediately dropped, and he curled in on himself breathing heavily.

_Oh my god oh my god oh my god I can’t believe I did that, he’s gonna be so pissed at me! Why would I ever—!_

Edge fell to the ground with a loud _thump_ , and Red winced, wondering if his brother was hurt.

Edge sat up, shaking his head.

Red wanted to say something to his brother, but he could barely manage a squeak. He started to hyperventilate when his brother got off the ground and walked toward him. He just needed to calm down, to take a pause and _breathe_ , but he _couldn't_.

Edge hesitated when he noticed, but when Red started to claw at himself again, Edge crouched by him and pulled his hands away from his head.

He kept ahold of his smaller brother's wrists, and Red used that as a grounding point.

They both just sat there like that until Red started to calm down, and his breathing was more controlled.

Red coughed, straightening his posture a little bit, and his eye sockets softened around the edges, and his smile pulled at the corners a little more genuinely. Red’s eye lights were turned a light shade of pink, different than his usual white pin-pricks.

“Uh… Red?” Edge must’ve noticed the minimal changes, and he seemed a little unsure now.

Red gently pried his hands from Edge, and he held up a finger. “No. I’m not Red. I’m… well I’m one of his subconscious personas I suppose. My name is Cherry.”

Edge’s face twisted, but Cherry continued talking. “And, I just wanted to thank you for being there for Red, and for trying to comfort him when he needed it. I try to tell him to stop doing these things, but he never seems to listen to me…” Cherry trailed off at that, smiling fondly. “But that’s beside the point. I came to warn you.” Edge looked confused and a little more alert at that.

“I may not blame you for this disorder we have, but I know Fell might. He's another personality. So, be careful around him.” Edge looked confused, so he explained. “Fell is the aggressive arsonist that I have to share this body with. I believe you may have encountered him before.” Edge nodded, and Cherry sighed. “Yes, I feared as much. I assume he’s set something on fire before?” Edge nodded again. “I see. Well as unfortunate as that is, I do want to mention the possibility of others. How many people has Red assaulted?”

Edge took a moment to think, and he counted on his fingers for a few seconds. “Around twenty. He’s threatened about double that amount.”

Cherry thought for a second. “Okay, a good number of those were possibly performed by an over-protective personality. I believe all the people mentioned had done something to you?”

“Yeah, but a few also did stuff to him.”

“Ah, okay, then yes, it would be another personality. However, I doubt this one blames you for the disorder, so he’s probably going to be more docile around you… By the way, it’s three against one as far as I know. You won’t wake up with your teeth missing, so don’t worry.”

Edge blinked.

“It was Fell’s idea initially. We turned it down, of course. Okay, uh, well, I may have… forgotten his name, but he’s been getting restless lately. I’m not sure what he’s planning, but uh, try to keep Red in the house or away from other people. That’s all. I’m going to try and get going. But remember, if you need me, then just, uh, call my name, and I’ll try my best to come. Same deal with Fell. He might know the other personalities name, but… Never mind. Don’t call him.” Cherry closed his eyes. “I’ll be seeing you.”

Edge gave a lame wave, unsure of what else to do.

They both sat there awkwardly, one with his eyes closed, breathing deeply, and another waiting patiently.

Red opened his eyes, gasping and falling forward.

Edge held him up by his shoulders before he could fall flat on his face.

“Oh god! What—… What happened?” Red asked looking around.

“Well, we were gonna go inside, but we got a little sidetracked.” Edge said, feigning annoyance. Truthfully, he was very concerned. As per usual.

Red looked around. “Why are we outside? Weren’t you guys just getting home from town?”

Edge just shrugged, because he didn’t want to answer how he had lied to his brother to see if there were scars on his arms. Which there _were_ , and he was still very upset about that.

Red blinked, and got up, swaying on his feet a bit.

Edge followed suit and led them back inside.

Red pulled out his mini-journal and wrote down as many events that he could remember from today.

He silently cursed as he realized he didn’t confront his brother about the newspapers yet.

“Oh, hey, uh, wait, bro.” Red said, hustling to keep up with his brother’s long stride. They stopped at the door with Edge’s hand on the knob. He turned to look at Red.

Red pulled out the newspaper from his pocket. “Uh, do you know what this is about?”

Edge looked at the paper and back to him. “…Deez nutz?”

Red looked at the paper and saw he had the wrong side that had a picture of a jar of peanuts with the words “Deez Nutz” printed on it.

“Wait, no, sorry.” Red flipped the paper over.

Edge went stiff when he read the headline. He looked at Red and searched his eyes.

After a couple seconds, Edge sighed and took the paper. “Don’t worry about it.”

Then they both walked in the house with questions flying through their heads that would never receive answers. At least... Not immediately.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, I put this up here finally. I hope you guys liked this chapter! I try and update every Saturday. Sometimes, I might update late, but I'll try not to!


	2. Who Knew he Would Make Such a Good Tattoo Artist?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy, mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the fact that I'm technically posting on a Sunday, not Saturday, but... It's up now! Also, I'm going to edit the last chapter, so it'll become a bit easier to understand. Hopefully.
> 
> Also, the parts that go over Red's thoughts may be a little confusing, but I'd like to think that it's because his thoughts confuse himself as well. 
> 
> Oh and I just want you guys to know that this is not exactly how DID works. It's more or less just my spin on things here. Since it's still fiction and all.
> 
> Also, thank you all for your support!

After Red had found himself outside of their house with his brother, Red had started to go to more therapy sessions, more frequently, but this time everyone else would go too. Everyone in the house would go to the group therapy and they’d all sit in a circle and would just talk. Talk about different little things that they hated or what made them nervous.

And eventually it was Red’s turn to talk. It took a couple of minutes of poking him, until he finally spoke about the voices in his head and the memory gaps and how confusing and annoying it was. He also just barely mentioned how after his gaps, everyone’s odd behavior made him feel just a little more confused and it slightly bothered him. It made him feel as if they were doing things for him to call up on a favor later.

Just after he said that, he was pulled into a crushing hug from Blueberry, Papyrus, and, surprisingly, Sans, while Edge just patted him on the head, and he was given a pity stare from Stretch. It was infuriating.

**_How PATRONIZING. You shouldn’t have to sit here and take this! It’s stupid!_ **

_…But they’re just trying to help…?_

**_But the way they’re going about this is wrong y’know? You don’t want their pity, you don’t want their empathy. Don’t you just want to feel normal?_ **

_…Well, I guess so…_

**_I knew you’d agree. Just lay back and I’ll help you take care of this sticky situation…_ **

_Wait but—_

**_Aren’t you tired?_ **

_…Sure, I am, what’s new?_

**_Get some sleep._ **

_What? No—_

Red lost his train of thought as he fell asleep.

Everyone in the room looked at each other and snickered.

“OKAY, I’LL CARRY HIM BACK,” Edge said, moving to pick his older brother up.

Red’s eyes flew open and they appeared as two light shades of crimson, not quite a dark red, but not quite pink.  
He whacked Edge’s hand back, hissing. “Get back, you slimy worm.”

Edge didn’t even flinch. “WORMS AREN’T SLIMY.”

“Spoken like a true snake.” Red said narrowing his eyes and grinning.

Edge struggled to keep his face still and voice low. “YOU JUST SAID I WAS A WORM!!”

“What of it?”

Sans put a hand on Edge’s arm, looking at Red cautiously, and… was he imagining it or did something flash in his eyes? What was it? It was gone too fast to tell. “Steady there. He just wants to get a rise outta ya. Look at his eyes. It ain’t Red.”

“Red,” he snorted and shook his head. “Nope. Name’s Jack. Oh, and, remove your hand from my brother before I break it into pieces.”

Sans moved his hand away from Edge and backed up.

“Good choice.”

Edge sighed and looked at Jack. “Really? You’re aware that I’m not a child anymore, right?”

Jack’s smile dimmed. “What? Well, I mean, of course you’re not, but…”

Edge shook his head. “But what, Brother?”

Jack looked to the side and he started sweating. “But… you still need me, right? I can still help, right? I’m still useful to you, right??”

Edge sighed. “Of course you are, but I don’t need you to control everything in my life for me. That’s not being helpful. That’s being the exact opposite.”

Jack was frowning now. “But, you… I… we’d be in danger…? If you showed weakness…? If you hung out with the wrong person, they’d bring trouble…? And you know I’m a better judge of character than you, so what…” Jack seemed to be trying to piece something together in his head.

Everyone around the circle seemed slightly confused, except for Sans and Stretch. They already knew most stuff about the two’s past, because they knew most of the right questions to ask. Of course, Edge was the only one able to answer the questions, while Red was silent the entire time.

Edge’s face softened. “Not here. Not anymore. We don’t have to worry about that.”

Jack shook his head. “No, no, that’s not true, whoever told you that—they’re lying to you. They’re LYING! It’s not true, what have I told you about trusting people off the streets?!” Jack seemed frustrated.

“They weren’t off the streets, Brother,” Edge said, smirking.

“Y-You know what I meant, Boss! It’s dangerous!” Jack said, exasperated.

Edge flinched at the name, and the others looked uncomfortable for a second.

Jack finally seemed to acknowledge everyone else in the room, and he jumped, but rushed in front of his brother.

“Who—?”

Edge put a hand on Jack’s head and pushed him to the side, crouching down to meet his eyes.

He hesitated for a second.

“Can I have my brother back?” Edge asked quietly.

Jack shook his head, understanding what Edge was asking. “Red’s sleeping. He’s really tired. He never gets any sleep at night. I kinda keep him up.” Jack winked and held a finger to his face. “Don’t tell him I told you. ‘Sides, I jus’ got ‘ere. And, I mean, wouldn’t ya want me ‘round more anyway? I’m way better company. Plus, I can protect all of you little shits waaay better than Red ever could. I’ve had practice.” Jack winked.

Edge hung his head and pulled Jack close in a hug. Jack tensed but melted into the contact soon enough.

“I understand if you don’t want me ‘round no more,” Jack sighed dejectedly into Edge’s shirt. “No hard feelings or anything. I’ve heard the shit that comes outta my mouth. I wouldn’t me ‘round either.” Jack laughed bitterly. “It makes sense. But, uh, just…,” Jack looked up at Edge, unsure. “You’re not just messin’ with me, right? We’re… You’re safe here?”

Edge nodded, placing a hand on Jack’s head, and Jack sighed, smiling.

“Alright. I’ll believe ya. Here—I’ll uh try ta get Charlie fer ya. I think he wanted to talk to ya, Edge.” Jack looked at Sans and winked. “You too. But it may not just be words heheh. Keep on keepin’ on… or whatever. See ya.”

Jack closed his eyes, and after a couple seconds his breathing slowed.

A couple seconds passed and Stretch spoke up. “What the hell.”

“BROTHER! LANGUAGE! BUT ALSO… I AGREE. WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?? AND WHO’S CHARLIE??” Blue asked looking at the others. They all shrugged or shook their heads.

Edge sighed, and sat down, holding his smaller brother in his lap.

“RED HAS DISSACOSIATIVE IDENTITY DISORDER.”

“WHAT’S THAT?” Classic Papyrus asked, clueless and confused.

“LOOK IT UP. RED HAD SCARS UP HIS ARMS. DID ANYONE KNOW ABOUT THAT?”

Everyone looked shocked, and several seemed alarmed.

Sans looked up sharply. “He has what?”

Edge looked him up and down, before shrugging and saying, “HE HAS SCARS AND CRACKS UP HIS ARMS, INFLICTED BY HIMSELF AS FORM OF A PUNISHMENT.”

“What?? Why??,” Sans asked again.

“THINKING BAD THINGS, I GUESS.” Sans still looked confused, so Edge explained further. “THINKING TO HARM ONES AROUND HIM OR JUST STRANGERS ON THE STREETS.”

Blueberry looked horrified. “HE THOUGHT WHAT?”

Edge shrugged, looking to the side. “IN HIS DEFENSE, IT WASN’T QUITE HIS FAULT. IT’S A SYMPTOM OF DID. IT WASN’T EXACTLY HIS THOUGHTS. IT WAS ANOTHER PERSONALITY,  
EDGAR. HE’S AN ARSONIST, AND A MURDERER.”

That didn’t seem to calm Blueberry down at all, but it seemed to comfort Sans a bit, as his expression softened a little.

“BUT AREN’T THE PERSONALITIES JUST EXTENSIONS OF RED? LIKE, THEY’RE STILL TECHNICALLY PART OF HIS PERSONALITY?” Blueberry asked. He was ignored.

“Oh… And here I was, thinking he was just that kind of a person…” Sans murmured, more to himself than anything.

Edge shook his head vehemently. “No, Red is a really good person. He’s honest, loyal to a fault, and he isn’t naturally a senseless killer, really.”

At some point in the conversation, Blueberry had left the room, and Stretch had followed. Edge didn’t bother going after them. Neither did Sans or Papyrus.

Papyrus was typing away at his phone, probably looking up the disorders and the best way to treat a person with them.

Sans was positively shaking, but Edge ignored that.

Instead, Edge worked up Red’s jacket sleeve all the way up to his shoulder joint. Red still wasn’t awake.

Sans took in a sharp breath at the sight of his arms, and looked away, like he couldn’t bear to see it for more than a couple seconds.

Edge, however, was feeling a sort of detached fascination. His hand hovered over the intricate patterns on his brother’s arm.

Red had carved little patterns into the bone. One was a flower, another was a smiling face with little tears in its eyes, and one was a lighter with a small flame. There was, of course, a couple that were just deep lines that you could clearly see the indention it left. But there was one that stood out to Edge. It was an intricate wolf with surprising detail in a standing position with it’s head dipped submissively.

All the carvings seemed a little like tattoos on his arm.

Something about the carvings unnerved him, and he roughly pulled his sleeve back down.

Red still didn’t wake up.

Edge didn’t want to see the other arm, but he felt like he needed to know if it was the same or different.

Edge slowly peeled up the other sleeve.

“You’re looking at his other arm?” Sans hissed, clearly distressed, but still looking at it nonetheless.

Once the sleeve couldn’t go any higher, Edge looked at the arm.

Edge’s soul almost jumped into his throat at what he saw.

Written on his arm was words. Harsh, deep marks were cut into the bone, spelling out different words in all capitols.

Words like “BAD”, “DISGUTING”, and “HORRIBLE” to name a few.

Sans was quite frankly looking sick to his non-existent stomach.

Edge didn’t blame him. He was feeling the same now too.

As he worked Red’s sleeve down, his eyes flew open.

Red almost fell forward and Sans moved to catch him, but Edge grabbed the fluffy hood of his jacket, smoothly moving the rest of his sleeve down, hopefully without him noticing.

Red started to breath heavily again, taking deep jittery breaths that rattled in his ribcage.

He broke out in a coughing fit, but soon his posture straightened, and his eyes turned pink again.

“Ah, welcome back Charlie,” Edge said fondly.

Sans looked confused.

“Nice to be back,” Charlie said, turning in different positions, stretching. When he saw Sans, his eyes lit up. “Oh! You must be Sans! I’ve heard a lot about you from the subconscious.” Charlie did what could only be explained as a skeletal equivalent to an eye brow wiggle.

Sans chuckled uneasily. “I don’t think that’s how that works…?”

“Oh, I don’t know, really. I just don’t read too much into the information I’m constantly fed, or how I get it.”

Sans glanced to the side quickly.

“Oh, where are my manners! I’m Charlie, one of Red’s personalities. Don’t worry, I’m not like Edgar or… Jack, I think his name was? No, I’d like to think I’m a bit nicer than them.”

Sans relaxed a bit, but not completely.

“What did you hear about me?” Sans asked quietly. The only answer he received was an elbow nudge and brow raise from Charlie.

Charlie gave a low chuckle, not really answering his question at all.

Edge was the first to ask the second question they were both wondering. (Papyrus was off in his own world, he didn’t seem to even be acknowledging the scene enfolding in front of him.) “So, when’s Red waking up?”

“Oh, soon I’d imagine. Don’t worry, he’d probably only be asleep for a couple more hours, or possibly a day at the latest. This might be the most he’s slept in weeks. Everyone else keeps him awake.” Charlie made a face.

Sans considered that. “Okay, thanks.”

Edge nodded, and got up, still holding Charlie.

“So, any other reason you came to talk to us, Charlie?” Edge asked.

Charlie thought, then brightened up. “Yep, sure do! Although, it’s not really good news… Okay, so, there’s a couple more personalities you haven’t, y’know, met yet, of course, but uh there’s another one that’s gradually becoming more and more prominent. He’s pretty much the same as when you two were growing up back home, Edge. So, just lettin’ you know. Also, I think Red may be under a lot of stress and confusion, so that’s probably not helping him.” Charlie looked at Papyrus. “Ask him for what to do around Red, he seems well-educated. Anyway, that’s all, see ya!”

And with that, Charlie was gone with a blink of his eyes.

But they stayed closed.

“Well, that’s certainly interesting,” Edge said simply.

“The most interesting thing that’s occurred on the surface, yet,” Sans snorted. “Though, it’s kinda freaky…”

Edge looked at Sans a moment, glanced to Papyrus, who still seemed oblivious, wholly focused on his phone, and looked back to Sans.

“Okay, look. I’ve seen how you look at Red. It’s obvious you two are really good friends, and that your feelings may stem a little farther than that.” Sans opened his mouth to object, but Edge continued, holding up his finger to silence him. “I’m not trying to get in the way. I just want you to know, that you do seem to make my brother happy, and I’m not against your relationship, even if it’s a little… unusual.” Sans squirmed a little at that. “But, I want you to know, that if you hurt my brother in any way, then I will hurt you in all ways that I can think of, and trust me, I have quite an imagination.”

Sans held up his hands in a pacifying manor, his face turning a deep shade of blue. “I would never do that, I assure you.” Sans took a moment to compose himself. “Can we just go home now?” he asked a little pleadingly.

“Sure.”

Sans tugged Papyrus’s arm until his brother finally looked down at him.

“C’mon bro, we’re headin’ home.”

“ALRIGHT BROTHER.” Papyrus glanced at his phone again, before turning it off, tucking it in his pocket. “OFF WE GO!” Papyrus scooped Sans up in his arms and rushed out the door, dashing down the hall shouting, “I BET I CAN BEAT YOU HOME, EDGE!”

Edge felt something spark inside him, and he felt himself grin.

He raced after Papyrus, taking care not to hit his brother on anything or unnecessarily jar him in his sleep, though he doubted anything could wake his brother up right now.

“OH, IT’S ON,” He said, dashing out the front doors past a shocked receptionist.

It was cute how childish Papyrus could act, but Edge knew that he acted similar, in ways. But he was glad most everyone else was fine with that. It was nice not having to act all tough, cold, and calculating 24/7. It really wore a person down.

He was also glad that Papyrus could help him work that out of his system, too. It was nice, having a friend that you could rely on.

A friend, he told himself, smiling.

Nothing more. But definitely nothing less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone know the ship name for Papyrus and Edge? I can't think of it.
> 
> Also, I'll try to get the next chapter out a bit earlier.


	3. Something's in the Air (and It's Not Just the Smoke!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly just fluff. Also some more kustard stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am! With my weekly update!  
> Thank you all for the support! It really helps!
> 
> Also, does anyone know a good name for horrortale Papyrus? I would use 'Jaws' but that seems a little offensive..

Sans was sitting on a chair in Red’s room with a bottle of ketchup in his hands, taking care not to spill any.

 

When they had gotten home (both of them had arrived at about the same time), Edge had dropped Red off in his room, and walked off do whatever that skeleton did in his free-time.

 

Sans didn’t quite trust Red to be alone just yet, so he was waiting for him to wake up.

 

Then they’d probably just talk like they always did. He didn’t mind though. In fact, he liked talking with Red. It made him feel like he was building up a better friendship with the skeleton.

 

Sans had even brought Red mustard for when he woke up, so he wouldn’t be as cranky as he normally was.

 

Sans was currently just watching Red in his bed. Call him creepy all you’d like, but he was too tired to do much else, and besides… Red just looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was so different than his normal worried, angry, or miserable expressions. He looked… relaxed for once.

 

Sans wished Red could be like that more often, and when he was awake.

 

He wanted to get to know relaxed, easy-going Red, not rude, over-protective, anxious Red, as he so often was.

 

But Sans recently learned that it wasn’t his fault he was like that. And it made him feel a little sad. Sad, that Sans had thought it was just Red’s normal self, not an actual disorder.

 

Sans really just wanted Red to feel wanted and loved. And apparently Sans wasn’t showing Red that he  _was_  wanted and loved enough. Maybe he was going about it wrong? Maybe he needed more than subtle hints? Maybe he should come clean to Red?

 

He felt his face heat up.

 

Maybe he could do something else.

 

But what?

 

Sans put his face in his hands, sighing.

 

He pulled them away when he heard Red murmur something.

 

Did he talk in his sleep? That’s cute.

 

Sans got up and walked closer to Red’s bed to hear what he was mumbling.

 

It seemed for the most part to be unintelligible mutterings, but some of them seemed desperate and afraid, and Red started squirming, looking frantic, even in sleep.

 

Sans frowned. Was he having a nightmare? Or maybe just a disturbing dream?

 

Sans placed his hand on Red’s forehead and sent a small but steady pulse of magic, trying to calm him down.

 

After a couple seconds, Red started to calm, and his murmurs quieted down.

 

Sans smiled a little as he received a weak pulse of magic in return.

 

As Sans was pulling his hand away, satisfied when Red was sufficiently calmed down, Red mumbled something grumpily that might’ve been along the lines of “stay”, and he threw an arm in his direction, brushing against his sleeve.

 

Sans chuckled, and he sat on the edge of the bed.

 

Sans held Red’s hand and continued to send his magic into him, who murmured contentedly, and slipped back into unconsciousness.

 

Sans kept holding Red’s hand, entwining their fingers.

 

A light blue dusted his cheeks when he watched Red and felt his fingers twitch adorably.

 

Sans’ blush deepened as Red rolled over, pressing closer to Sans, murmuring a couple words Sans didn’t quite catch.

 

Red’s grip on Sans’ hand tightened enough that Sans couldn’t have left even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t. But still, it was nice to have options.

 

He felt his eyes beginning to droop. He sighed in exasperation, his blush spreading over his entire face.

 

Sans kicked off his slippers and slipped into the bed beside Red. As soon as Sans was as comfortable as he could be on the surprisingly hard mattress (like seriously, was he sleeping on bricks??) Red snuggled up to him unconsciously, making a little noise that conveyed how comfortable he was.

 

Sans’s face was now glowing bright enough to illuminate the room.

 

Sans tried to reason with himself that he had no other choice, even if he knew that wasn’t the case. He could just detach his hand and run for it and come back to grab it later, or he could wake up Red as a last resort.

 

Sans shook his head and relaxed.

 

He was lulled to sleep from the gentle rise and fall of Red’s chest.

 

 

 

 *         *        *

 

 

 

Red awoke to the sound of breathing. Which was unusual for him to wake up from that, considering he was normally a heavy-sleeper. But something felt… off about today.

 

So, as a result Red felt more alert than usual.

 

Red cracked open an eye just enough to see through.

 

He yelped when he saw Sans’s face (which was  _really_  close, by the way), and Red scrambled back, falling off the side he was on. Sans was dragged with him a bit, and that brought Red’s eyes to their hands clasped together. Red’s face flushed a deep crimson.

 

Red pulled his hand away after a second of prying Sans’s fingers loose.

 

Red took a couple seconds to compose himself, and he attempted to calm his fast beating soul.

 

He tried to remember anything from yesterday, but he could only remember bits and pieces. He reached into his jacket pocket (which he’d slept in again… Red hoped Edge didn’t know, he’d have a fit) for his journal, and he looked around for a pencil. He finally found a pen and scribbled down all the events he could recall from yesterday.

 

Red also wrote an entry for today and wrote how he’d found Sans next to him in his bed with their hands holding.

 

He was sure there was a reasonable explanation, of course.

 

Red glanced at his bedside table. There was a mustard bottle on it.

 

He looked around his room, but nothing else seemed amiss, besides his desk chair facing his bed and a bottle of ketchup on the wooden surface. Plus, Sans’s slippers, but that wasn’t too important.

 

No new knick-knacks had been acquired, and nothing was re-arranged… Also, the days lined up, so he didn’t wake up with a memory gap. Red sighed, grateful.

 

Sans stirred on the bed.

 

Red got up and poked him in his shoulder blade. Sans groaned and rolled away from him slightly.

 

Red snickered and poked him in the shoulder blade again. He got the same reaction.

 

He kept repeating the process until Sans finally opened his eyes begrudgingly, clearly resigned that he wouldn’t get anymore sleep.

 

Sans’s eyes widened when he saw Red grinning above him.

 

“Mornin’ there. Sleep well?” Red teased.

 

Sans looked from side to side, his face flushing a pretty blue in embarrassment. “I-I can explain!”

 

“Eh, I don’t care. Just get outta my bed.” He said, leaning back a bit, grinning lazily.

 

Sans rolled off the side he was on, landing on the floor with a loud  _thud_.

 

Neither of them moved for a couple seconds until Red finally asked, “Are you okay?”

 

“I dunno. Probably.”

 

Red rolled his eye lights and offered a hand.

 

Sans grabbed it muttering his thanks and pulled himself up, using the hand to balance himself.

        

They both made their way downstairs (after grabbing their condiments) and as soon as they made it to the kitchen, they could hear shouting.

        

“Oh boy.” Red muttered, not looking forward to whatever was going on in the kitchen.

        

Sans looked just about as excited as Red felt, but they still made their way into the room.

        

They both just stood in the doorway, watching what was going on in front of them.

        

Blueberry was on the counter, trying to balance plates, cups, and silverware in one hand, while holding a small pot with bacon in it, in the other. Papyrus was vigorously scrubbing a different pot in an overflowing sink, and Edge was trying to put out a fire in a tiny silver pan. Red watched the smoke from the pan curl up to the ceiling, where the fire-detector  _should_  be going off like crazy, but upon further inspection, the fire-detector was really just a paper bowl with two M&M’s glued onto it.

 

Right now, there was a shouting match between all three of them about the fire and who started it. Blueberry kept blaming Edge and Edge kept blaming Blueberry, while Papyrus was trying to say that  _he_  did it. Edge then shouted that Papyrus was busy washing dishes, so it couldn’t have been him, and that  _he_  was busy putting dishes in the sink, so Blueberry was the only one with access to the stove at that time. But Blueberry had denied that, saying that putting dishes in the sink takes a few seconds, and that he was busy getting plates and such, so he couldn’t have done it either.

 

Then the argument came right back around in a circle.

 

Red let out a weak cough, the smoke getting to him. He tried not to be noticed, and attempted to hold in his coughs, but ultimately failing as that led into a coughing fit, and Red had to lean on the doorframe to stay upright.

 

“You alright?” Sans asked, concerned.

 

Red nodded. “I just… need some water I guess,” Red managed through coughs.

 

Sans walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from Blueberry, and poured water into it.

        

“OH! HELLO BROTHER AND RED! HOW DID YOU TWO SLEEP?” Papyrus asked, finishing with the dishes.

 

“Like a log.” Red answered weakly after drinking some of the water. “Thanks.”

 

Sans nodded at Red and turned to Papyrus. “I slept just fine.”

 

“THAT’S GREAT AND ALL, BUT…” Blueberry piped up, still on the counter, balancing all the plates and the one pot with over-crispy bacon in it. “COULD SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME?”

 

Sans rushed forward, taking all the glasses from Blueberry, but Red walked to the sink, and washed his hands.

 

After he finished with that, the fire was fully extinguished, and there were cups all around the table. Red took the bacon and sat it on the counter. He grabbed an extra plate and put some paper towels on it. He laid the crispy bacon onto the paper towels and made his way to the table after placing the pot next to the sink.

 

The table was fully set now, with pancakes that looked just a little too dark and bacon that seemed a touch too black.

 

Stretch made his way to the table, eyeing the food.

 

“Morning Bro. What’s goin’ on?” Stretch asked Blueberry.

 

“WELL, WE WERE GOING TO GIVE RED BREAKFAST IN BED, BUT HE’S ALREADY AWAKE, SO WE’RE JUST GOING TO EAT TOGETHER AT THE TABLE.”

 

“Oh, okay, cool.”

 

Stretch looked at Red for a second, before moving on and sitting where he normally sits. In between Blueberry and Papyrus. Sans sat by Papyrus and Red sat next to Sans, and Edge sat across from Papyrus and next to Red and Blueberry.

 

There was a chair in between Edge and Blueberry though. The two don’t seem to like each other very much.

 

Edge leaned down to Red and whispered as quietly as he could, “Blueberry was the one who started the fire, I know it.”

 

Red snickered and whispered back, “Are you still on that?”

 

“I was never off!”

 

Red laughed again, this time a little louder.

 

He relaxed a bit and grabbed a pancake and a couple strips of bacon. They ate the rest of the meal in peace.

 

So far, it’s felt like a great start to the day. Hopefully he hasn’t jinxed it. He probably has. Red knocked on the wooden table.

 

Edge looked at him questioningly, but Red just shrugged and finished eating.

 

The meal was surprisingly… edible. The bacon actually sort of tasted like bacon, and the pancakes, if you drowned them in enough syrup, were easily swallowed down.

 

After he put his plate in the dishwasher, Red just lounged on the couch, watching some show about a highly observant man with amazing hair and his partner, who seemed to be slightly more logical. It was actually rather interesting, as long as he ignored the old movie references he didn’t understand.

 

Sans was sitting by him, and Stretch was lying on the arm-chair. All the others were cleaning up breakfast.

 

Red started to drift off again.

 

Before he could, though, he heard his name being shouted from the kitchen. He groaned but rolled off the couch anyway. He slowly trudged his way into the kitchen but froze in the doorway when he saw the bright orange pill bottle.

 

“Nope.” Red said trying to sprint away, but Edge caught him, turning his soul blue and holding him off the ground by several feet.

 

Red sighed and went limp, resigned to the fact that this was now part of his daily routine.

 

Edge opened the bottle. “I enjoy this about as much as you do, Brother.”

 

Red seriously doubted that, but he just shrugged.

 

Edge grabbed the pills Red needed to take and asked him, “Are you going to participate today? Or do I need to use force again?”

 

Red shrugged again, but after a couple seconds, he held out his hand begrudgingly.

 

Edge sighed in relief, handing him the pills, but still holding his soul.

 

Red considered throwing the pills, but he decided against it, instead, swallowing the pills dry.

 

Edge pat him on the head and sat him down on the ground again. “See? Now, was that so hard?”

 

Red nodded.

 

“Okay, whatever. Off you go. Do whatever, I guess.”

 

Red raised his browbones, grinned and walked to the couch.

 

‘Do whatever’ was such a highly exploitable thing to say, he couldn’t just  _not_  do something stupid.

 

Sans was laying on the couch, watching TV, and Stretch had fallen asleep on the chair.

 

As Red made his way back in front of the TV, still wearing his stupid grin, Sans looked up at him.

 

“What did you do? What broke?” Sans asked.

 

“Nothing.” Red said, genuinely a little offended that Sans immediately assumed he was grinning because something was damaged, or he did something stupid. But he wasn’t too far off. “Yet,” Red added with a wink.

 

Sans chuckled a little and sat up, shaking his head. “What’re ya gonna do, Red?”

 

Red sat on the couch, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well…” He drawled. “I was thinkin’… You could possibly lift my ban from the town? Jus’ fer today?”

 

Sans stared at him suspiciously. “Why?”

 

“I jus’ wanna look around… You can come with me, if ya think I’m really that irresponsible.” Red added. He didn’t lie, he did want to look around, just in a few particular places.

 

Sans considered that for a couple minutes, until he finally caved and said, “Fine, you can go. But I’m accompanying you, because yes, I do think you’re that irresponsible.” Red shrugged, grinning wider. “And if you assault so much as one person, we’re leaving.”

 

“That’s ‘aight with me.” Red got up off the couch, checking his old flip-phone for the time. “3:23…”

 

“Ya got plans, Red?” Sans asked, arching a browbone.

 

Red shrugged. “Maybe. That’s fer me ta know an’ you not to ask ‘bout ‘till 5.”

 

“Why ‘till 5—” Sans asked, getting off the couch as well, but he was cut off when Red grabbed his arm.

 

“C’mon we’re wasting daylight!”

 

And with that, Red teleported them in front of a store that held all sorts of technological equipment. It was like a fancy best-buy. 

 

Sans looked to Red, who was staring at the store in awe and exitement.

          

“I’ve seen the store, but I’ve never actually been in there. Wonder what’s inside…”

           

Red started walking forward, but Sans stopped him. “Do you have any money to buy anything here?”

 

Red’s smile faltered.

 

Sans shook his head and reached into his pocket for his wallet.

 

He handed Red a hundred dollars. “Knock yerself out. That’s all I’m givin’ ya. I’ll need ya ta work that off though. Through chores an’ stuff, yeah?”

 

Red’s eyes bugged out. He stared at the money, then at Sans. “No way, no, I can’t possibly accept that… I can jus’ look around, an’ get a job that pays well enough an’ use my own money fer this.

 

“Take it er leave it, Red.”

 

Red looked back at the money, then Sans, the money, Sans, money, Sans… Finally, he just snatched the hundred-dollar bill from Sans’s hand.

 

“Thank you. I’ll try an’ repay ya somehow…”

 

Sans shrugged. “Chores.”

 

Red nodded. “I can do that.”

 

And with that, they both walked into the store. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how short the chapter is, but the next one will be longer, so hopefully that'll make up for it!


	4. The Hangover (dun dun dun)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red is hungover, Sans helps him out, Kustard fluff ensues. 
> 
> Also, they get to meet a new persona, definitely unlike the others!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! This chapter was pretty hard to get through for some reason.
> 
> But, yes, as the summary says, there is kustard in this! 
> 
> And, uh, just let it be said, that I have never been in a very serious relationship, nor have I been hung over, so this might not turn out too well...
> 
> But I hope you enjoy it either way!
> 
> (Also, mentions of rape and abuse in this chapter-- near the end)

 

Red woke up with a splitting headache, and a nauseous stomach. He ran to the bathroom at the end of the hallway and emptied the contents of his previously mentioned metaphorical stomach into the toilet. He flushed it away.

 

His head felt like it was acting as a drum, and someone was pounding bloody murder on it, and _god_ , did it hurt.

 

Red rubbed his head and leaned against the cool tiled wall. He unraveled some toilet paper to wipe off his mouth.

 

He tried to remember what happened last night, but all he could recall was flashing images and loud noises.

 

So, either he had a memory gap, or…

 

He grabbed his mini-journal from his jacket pocket (that’s the second night in a row he’s slept in his jacket! He needs to stop doing that) and read the events from yesterday.

 

It had, written down in his usual bad-writing:

 

 

June 10, 201X— Woke up next to Sans in my bed?? And we were holding hands?? I’m confused, but I really don’t think I wanna know.

Apparently, we don’t have a smoke-detector, and there was a fire in the kitchen during breakfast.

The ‘Culinary Geniuses’ are improving their breakfast making skills, and I could eat it without wanting to spit it back out.

I took my meds, and then Edge told me to “Do whatever”. So, I’m gonna go to the bar. With Sans’s permission.

Never mind, looks like Sans is going, too.

Sans gave me one hundred dollars to spend on electronics, and all I have to do to repay him is chores?? SCORE!

I got a new phone. It’s cheap, but it’s a touchscreen, and not to mention AMAZING.

I’m heading off to the bar now.

 

 

         The writing then got a bit more difficult to read, and there were plenty grammar and spelling issues, but he could manage.

 

 

I just hit a man with a beer glas. Also I think I’ve had, like, 10 drinks. Vodka, I think. Human alkohol is pretty weak, so then after that I had 5 shots.

Sans had two shots and the same drink I had, but he onely had 1.

He siad I’d had enouf and took me home.

I can’t walk in a strait line. I think thats bad.

Sans said it was.

Sans wanted to read my mini-jornal, but I told him no and shoved him. I fel overe but Sans barely even triped.

I think he’s mad.

He said he was.

What do you do to stop somone from being mad?

I kised Sans on the head.

He said he wasn’t that mad anymore. ~~He turned the prettiest shade of blue, too.~~

So, you kis people when they’re mad to make them les mad?

I’ll have to remeber that.

We’re back home. I fel on my bed and I’m about to go to slepe. I think Sans passed out two, but I don’t know wher he is.

 

 

Red sighed, rubbing his skull, a light red coloring his face when he read that he kissed Sans on his head.

 

He needs a painkiller or something, but right now, he feels content with just sitting there, doing nothing.

 

Instead, he made a new entry after checking the date on his cool new phone.

 

After he was finished writing everything down, he tried to get up on his trembling legs, but ended up falling on his face, sending a jolt of pain through his body. It was a second before Red sat up slowly and leaned back against the wall.

 

Looks like he won’t be walking right now.

 

He opened the camera app on his phone and used the selfie mode thing as a mirror.

 

Red had a thin crack along the bridge of his nasal cavity, adding to his splitting headache.

 

Red groaned quietly, and he pulled up his texting app.

 

It looks like he sent drunken texts to his brother, Sans, and Stretch. Why Stretch, he didn’t know. Red didn’t even bother looking at those, instead opening Sans’s contact, and texted him “plz help, im in the bathroom”.

 

Red waited, trying not to move, because moving hurt, and trying not to think, because thinking made his skull feel like it was stuffed full of feathers. Which, oddly enough, wasn’t a very pleasant feeling.

 

A few minutes passed, and Red sent more texts, repeating the words “help” and “plz”.

 

Eventually, he received the word “where”, so he sent “bathroom”, and Sans was by his side in an instant. Literally.

 

Red turned to face Sans, who promptly froze for a second before cupping his face in his hands, staring intently at the bridge of Red’s nose.

  

Red felt an uncomfortable blush creep across his face and he glanced to the side, avoiding eye contact. Soon enough, Red felt the warm prick of healing magic concentrated in that spot.

 

Eventually, the pain from that particular part of his head receded, but Sans kept ahold of Red’s skull. He didn’t even really seem to know he was doing that.

 

After a couple minutes Red asked in a hoarse voice, “Hey, don’t meant to interrupt… whatever this is, but could ya get me like a painkiller or somethin’? This is killin’ me.” Red grimaced at his own voice’s volume. The sound was like holes were being drilled into his skull.

 

Sans yanked his hands back as if Red had burned them, and a deep blue crept on his face. Maybe his drunken self was right about something. That _was_ a pretty blue. “Sorry. Of course.” Red flinched. Sans’s voice sounded way too loud as well.

 

Sans vanished with a pop of displaced air, and he returned a few seconds later, holding a white bottle with a blue label.

 

Sans took a few pills from the bottle and held them out to Red, who accepted them gratefully, trying but failing to ignore how much it hurt to move.

 

He swallowed the pills dry and leaned against the wall again, taking care not to move his head too fast.

 

“God, what happened last night…? I only have little details. Do you know anything?” Red asked Sans.

 

Sans rubbed the back of his neck, and he sat next to Red on the ground.

 

“Well, I’m pretty sure that, uh…” Sans trailed off. He thought for a second before asking, “What do you think of me?”

 

Red just looked at Sans, bracing himself for what he was going to do (because you only live once, right?) and gave him a hug. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to say the words out loud.

 

When Red finally pulled away, a light blue was spread on Sans’s features, and Red found the sight so endearing.

 

Sans gave a nervous chuckle, looking to the side. “That uh that doesn’t really answer anything…”

 

Red looked at him blankly. Something sparked in Red’s dull white eye lights, and he leaned forward, a grin splitting his face. “Then does this?” Red closed the gap between them and clanked his teeth against Sans’s.

 

He felt Sans stiffen but melt into the little skeleton kiss anyway.

 

Red pulled away again after a few seconds, a deep red blush accenting his features.

 

They both stared at each other, and Red started to feel nervous. Did he read that situation wrong? Did Sans not… feel the same way…? The simple thought that he might not, broke his metaphorical heart, but his worries were dispelled when Sans pulled him back into another hug saying the word “Yes” over and over, punctuating each word with a skeletal kiss on his head.

 

Red relaxed, and leaned into the hug, feeling himself start to drift off. Red sighed happily, content with the world right now, even if his skull felt like it was being chipped open as slowly and painfully as it ever could be.

 

“Thanks,” Red uttered, before he fell asleep.

 

Red felt Sans smile and press his teeth to his forehead. “You’re welcome.”

 

 

*       *       *

 

 

Red woke up again to the sound of voices. A few were loud, but a couple were quiet. He could tell there was an effort, though, to be a bit quieter. It was relatively obvious, but Red’s headache still hadn’t gone away, and all the noise was irritating it even more.

 

He cracked open his eyes and he saw he was in his room, but how he got here was questionable. It was dark, thankfully.

 

Red took off a slipper and threw it at the door weakly, in a vain attempt to silence everyone else out there.

 

It worked for a couple seconds, then someone’s voice came, trying to be loud enough for Red to hear, but quiet enough so it didn’t disturb him too much. It was failing.

 

“Red? Are you awake?” That sounded like Blueberry.

 

“No,” Red groaned, just not wanting to be bothered. He turned his head, face-down in the pillow.

 

“That’s a yes.” That was Edge.

 

“Wait, I don’t get it, is it a yes or a no?” Papyrus. Good old, _loud_ Papyrus.

 

“He said ‘no’, meaning he isn’t awake, but the answer is yes, meaning he is awake, because he had to be awake to say he wasn’t,” Edge explained.

 

“Ohhh.” Papyrus seemed to understand now, but really, Red didn’t care, he just wanted them to go away. “But how do we know Red isn’t just talking in his sleep?”

 

There was a pause.

 

“Red, are you talking in your sleep?” Blueberry asked.

 

Red sighed and propped himself up with one elbow, resigned to the fact that he'd have to talk a little more.

 

“No.”

 

“There, that’s settled.”

 

“But he could just be repeating one word in his sleep.”

 

“I’m not asleep, you guys woke me up.”

 

He heard a gasp from Blueberry, then someone tapped on the door. “Can I come in?” It was Sans? He must not have been in the previous conversation much, or he just got there.

 

Red sighed again. “Might as well.”

 

The door opened, and light from the hall creeped in, causing Red to flinch back, shying away from it.

 

He hissed as the door opened wider, but before he could say anything, the door was shut.

 

Red felt Sans sit on the edge of the mattress.

 

“How ya feelin’?” He asked.

 

“Like dying.”

 

“That bad, huh?”

 

“No, that’s just the mindset I’m in right now.”

 

Sans sighed and leaned down, giving him an awkward one-arm hug.

 

Red would’ve returned the hug, but his arm didn’t bend the way he needed it to.

 

When Sans pulled away, he asked, “Do you need anything? Like, another painkiller? Some water? Toast?”

 

Red considered it, then he asked, “Could I have some water and a painkiller? That would be great.”

 

Sans nodded and vanished with a pop again. And, like last time, he was back in a couple seconds, with a cup of water and the blue labeled pill bottle from earlier.

 

“’Ere ya go,” Sans said handing him the bottle. “Water’s on the night stand if ya need it.” Red nodded his thanks and tried to open the bottle. Sans noticed his struggle, and took the bottle, popping off the lid.

 

Red avoided eye contact and he muttered, “I could’ve gotten it…”

 

Sans rolled his eye lights, then he asked, “What do ya want me ta tell yer brother? An’ Blueberry, he seems kind of concerned. I think Stretch is still asleep, so ya don’t really need ta bother.”

 

Red thought for a second. “Tell ‘em ta shut up an’ go away. Please,” he added after a thought that was practically screaming _"BE POLITE"._

 

Sans disappeared for a second, and there were voices coming from the other side of the door, before everything was quiet, and there was the sound of footsteps receding.

 

Sans reappeared. “Edge decided ta make toast fer ya with Papyrus. Blueberry’s gonna watch ‘em, make sure they don’t burn anythin’. You’ll probably still get a black piece of toast.”

 

Red shrugged, just thankful there isn’t as much noise as before. He relaxed further into the pillow, pressing face-down into it.

 

“Thanks,” Red said muffled by the pillow.

 

Sans chuckled. “No problem. So, do you want me to go and let you sleep?”

 

Red shook his head gently. “Stay please.”

 

Sans looked around. “Okay, I’ll pull up a chair if ya need me.”

 

Red nodded, smiling tiredly. “Righty-o.”

 

Red drifted back off to sleep soon after.

 

 

*       *        *

 

 

Red woke up, without any disturbances, to toast laying next to a water glass.

 

Red picked up the black-ish, brown-ish piece of toast and nibbled on it, getting crumbs in his bed.

 

He looked around, and saw that on his left was Sans, asleep in a chair. To his right was Edge, asleep in a sitting position on the floor. They both seemed cold.

 

His head thankfully didn’t hurt as bad as it did when he woke up the first time. Now, it was reduced to a simple dull pounding, like someone was beating a mallet on a large drum in his skull, and occasionally hitting his skull with the mallet. Oh, and the mallet was on fire.

 

He put the toast back on the plate.

 

Red grunted as he sat up, his spine creaking in protest. He twisted side-to-side, making it pop.

 

He slid off his bed, stumbling a bit, but catching himself on the bedframe. He walked around Edge to his closet, using the wall as his support, and he pulled out a few extra blankets.

 

He draped one over Edge’s shoulders, readjusting it so it covered all of him, save for his head, like a cocoon. He did the same for Sans, and he made his way back to his bed, feeling accomplished.

 

Red picked the piece of toast back up and bit off a bit more.

 

He drank some of the water, sliding back under the covers.

 

Red snacked on the rest of the toast, until there was nothing left. He pulled out his phone, careful to make sure the brightness was as low as it could go. He opened a website on his phone and started reading a book series he’s been falling behind on lately.

 

By the time he’d almost finished reading (his favorite character was about to die), Edge blinked his eyes open.

 

“Mornin’ Bro. Hope ya slept well.” Red said, still trying to talk a bit quieter, because one, Sans was still asleep, and two, the mallet hadn’t quite slowed its pace yet. He also couldn’t quite punctuate correctly, because opening his mouth too wide was like an open invitation to pain.

 

Edge blinked, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, and looked at the blanket he was cocooned in.

 

“Yeah, I gave you a blanket. Hope ya don’t mind.” Red’s eye lights both flashed a bright red, but just for a second before the moment passed.

 

**_You idiot!! He didn’t specifically ask you to do that! What’s wrong with you, why’d you do that??_ **

 

 _What? What do you mean? And_ don’t _call me an idiot._

****

**_Well—_ **

 

Edge smiled weakly, saying, “Thanks. I don’t know why, but your room always seems cold…”

 

Red relaxed. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just his imagination. Of course his brother wouldn’t mind. “No, it’s just your room is an unearthly temperature of heat.”

 

“You’re just saying that because you’re jealous.”

 

“Of what?” Red laughed, struggling to keep his voice quiet.

 

“Of me, obviously.” Edge said confidently.

 

Red just laughed, reaching out to pat his brother on the shoulder.

 

“Yep. Yer the coolest. Course, I’m jealous of the Great and Terrible Edge.”

 

Edge puffed out his chest at that, trying to look more imposing or something. It wasn’t really working, but he got an A for effort.

 

Red gave a weak cough, and before he broke into a coughing fit, he drank the rest of the water.

 

“You alright? You keep coughing.”

 

“Yeah, no, I’m good.”

 

He isn’t really. His lungs keep burning. And his only question is HOW?! He doesn’t even _have_ lungs? How are they burning??

 

Red tried to breathe slower, but that didn’t help either. In fact, it made it worse, and he started coughing again.

 

Edge eyed him doubtfully, and he stood up, joints popping. He grabbed his empty water glass, and said, “I’ll be right back.”

 

Red nodded, looking at Edge gratefully, still trying not to cough, which only made the problem worse.

 

Edge left the room, and Red sat up, pulling out his journal, writing down the recent events, not daring to breathe, so he wouldn’t cough. He’ll have to remember to ask Sans exactly what happened last night. Sans never quite answered his question.

 

Currently, Red was facing a dilemma. He felt the extreme need to cough, but Sans was asleep two feet away, and Red didn’t want to disturb him, but he also didn’t want to move out of bed. Decisions, decisions.

 

Before he could just teleport away, Sans slowly opened his eyes, which led Red to just start coughing while comfortable in his bed. He wasn’t going to disturb Sans, so he could cough freely.

 

Sans looked around, and stared at the blanket Red gave him. Sans then snapped his head up to Red when he didn’t stop coughing after at least a minute. Red held up a finger to Sans, wanting him to wait.

 

“You good?” Sans asked, even though the answer is in front of him. The answer is obviously no, but Red nodded, still coughing, tears starting to prick in the corner of his eyes. The coughs were starting to get painful, and he really wanted to stop, but he couldn’t. It’s a good thing that he didn’t really need air that badly, considering.

 

Breathing was more of a habit than a necessary function for skeletons anyway.

 

Red could feel his rib cage starting to constrict, and on top of his headache, he felt like he was hurting all over.

 

Edge walked back into the room with a glass of water, and he pressed the glass into Red’s hands.

 

Red tried to say, ‘thank you’, but he barely managed a ‘thaka’ in between coughs.

 

Edge just nodded, seeming to understand his gibberish.

 

Red quickly took a sip of water, and the coughing slowed. He sipped more of it, and it eventually stopped, thankfully.

 

After a couple seconds, Sans said, “Good morning.”

 

Red shook his head, laughing. “No, it’s been a bad morning. A very bad morning. Well I mean, with that one exception, of course.” Red wiggled his eye brows(?) at Sans, who rolled his eye lights, laughing.

 

Edge looked between them. “I think I’m missing something here.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Bro. I’m just messin’ ‘round.”

 

Edge shrugged and sat back down. “So, what’s up with your coughing fits? You’ve been having them more and more recently.”

 

Red thought for a moment, before he asked, dreading the answer. “Has Fell…” Red paused then restated his sentence. “Have I set anything on fire recently?”

 

Edge and Sans’s faces harden. “Fell isn’t you.” Edge growled.

 

Red tilted his head. “Yes, he is. He’s an extension of my mind, probably just my irrational hot-headedness, but amplified. Or something like that. And, yes, I do occasionally feel like setting things on fire when they piss me off. So, Fell is a part of me. Just not a flattering part.”

 

Red’s head hurt even more. It feels like the mallet had been dipped in lava and had grown spikes.

 

Both Edge and Sans decided to ignore Red’s logic.

 

“Yes, actually, a, uh… strip club was set on fire a couple nights ago,” Sans said, glancing to the side. “I guess that you must’ve just breathed in too much smoke there.”

 

Edge nodded, agreeing. Red nodded too. He just didn’t like the whole paying for nudity thing. He’s never really been to one before either but— Wait, no, he’s getting off topic!

 

“You guys can’t just omit truths because you don’t like them!” Red said, indignantly.

 

“Yes, we can. We just did,” Edge growled, his eyes flashing, causing Red to flinch back, his eyes flashing that bright red again in response.

 

Edge stared in shock at the bright red, until Red managed to calm himself down enough to bring his eye lights back to a normal white. “S-sorry,” he squeaked, seeing Edge’s expression.

 

Edge looked away. “No, it’s fine.”

 

They all sat there in tense silence, all of them lost in their thoughts. Sans was confused and worried (what’s new), Edge was confused and guilty (nothing changed there), and Red was having a mental breakdown (when does that _not_ happen).

 

Red was also trying to figure something out, but the mental breakdown kind of makes that hard.

 

**_Boss shouldn’t be doing this!! He shouldn’t be acting like that! Why is he doing that?_ **

 

_Why do you make no sense? Who’s “Boss”? And why are you panicking?? Stop it! Get out of my head! I don’t want anymore confusion! GET OUT!_

 

He started breathing heavier as panic set in.

 

He started to claw at his head with his claw-like fingers, leaving little marks next to the older ones. No one seemed to notice yet, so Red could continue his horrible grounding method.

 

Red curled into a ball on his bed, trying to get under the covers more. That’s when Sans and Edge noticed, and Edge smacked Red’s hands away from his skull, while Sans held his hands together, and pulled them towards him. Red whimpered.

 

“What do we do?” Sans asked, looking at Edge who had his face set grimly.

 

“Nothing. This has happened before. That was when Cherry came out to talk to me. So, I assume another persona will be showing up. I doubt this one will be nearly as nice to you, so uh, you should probably let go of his hands. He wouldn’t like me touching him either, if this is the one I’m thinking of.”

 

Edge’s eyes flashed when Sans’s grip on Red’s hands tightened. “He’ll hurt himself.”

 

“Scars heal easily. Emotional trauma, not so much. This one has haphephobia.”

 

Sans glared at Edge. “What do you mean? And how would you know?”

 

“If this is the one Cherry was telling us about, then he’ll call himself Sans the Skeleton, stutter, avoid being touched, do what I tell him to do without question, he’ll be afraid of me, call me “Boss” … Pretty much he’ll be acting the same as when we first arrived at your doorstep.”

 

Sans’s face twisted, and he looked back down at Red, who was starting to calm down. He didn’t have any eye lights currently, but that was to be expected.

 

Sans sighed again and let go of Red’s hands. They went back to his skull, but they didn’t scratch at it. Instead, his fingers just tapped against it, making a dull clicking sound. It annoyed Edge even more than the scratching.

 

It was oddly comforting to the small skeleton though. Red kept doing it, even when his bright cherry red eye lights came into focus.

 

No one spoke for the longest time. Sans was staring intently at Red, making him uncomfortable, and that caused the clicking to pick up in speed and volume. Red was staring back at Sans, but occasionally stole nervous glances at Edge, who was looking more and more upset as time went on. He didn’t know that his tapping was the cause for his annoyance, however.

 

Eventually Sans spoke up, clearing his throat. “Heya. Don’t believe we’ve met.”

 

Red looked at Edge, who gave a terse nod.

 

“N-name’s Sans. Sans the Skeleton. I th-think that’s y-your name too, r-right?” Red asked.

 

Sans nodded.

 

“O-okay, th-then I g-guess I’ll k-keep my—… His nickname.” Sans and Edge looked ready to question what he meant, but Red carried on anyway. “I’ve h-heard a bit a-about you. A-all good things, r-really.”

 

Sans looked relieved, albeit fairly curious. “And I’ve heard a bit about you as well.” Red looked nervous. “All good things, really.”

 

Now he looked confused. “H-how are th-they g-good things? I h-haven’t r-really done much noteworthy g-good th-things.”

 

“Don’t sell yerself short, now. ‘M sure you did some good things.”

 

Red ignored the last part, pushing himself off his bed, and standing up, attempting to loom over Sans who was still sitting down. “Was that a short joke? Because, I’ll have you know—” Red took a threatening step forward, losing his stutter momentarily, but he immediately stopped his approach when he saw Edge stand up in the corner of his eye.

 

Red didn’t move when Edge started to walk towards him.

 

He did start shaking, however, when Edge stopped directly behind him, his presence practically _daring_ him to finish what he was going to do.

 

Red whipped around, putting on a fake smile that trembled a bit, like it was painful for him to fake it.

 

“H-hey, Boss! Uh, so, h-how are you? Do ya need anything?” Red asked looking side-to-side, ignoring Sans completely.

 

Edge shook his head.

 

Red looked at him accusingly. “Yes, y-you do.”

 

Edge looked at him a bit surprised but frowned. “It’s nothing you can help with.”

 

“We’ll s-see. W-what is it?”

 

Sans looked between them both, then leaned back in his chair, completely content to let them talk this out.

 

“I want my brother to be completely healthy, physically and mentally.”

 

Red paused for a moment, before glaring at the ground. “Shit.”

 

Edge nodded. “Shit indeed.”

 

Red paused before he started looking nervous and he fiddled with the hem of his red sweater. A few sweat droplets slid down his face.

 

Edge stared at Red intently. “What do you know, Sans?”

 

Red flinched at the use of his name, but he sucked in a breath. “W-well… y-you know I-I’ll never blame you. F-fer anything. B-but uh th-this _is_ … kind of… yer… fault.” Red got quieter the farther he got into the sentence, and when Edge finally managed to process what Red had said, his face twisted painfully. “N-not entirely!” Red jumped to assure him. “Th-there were o-others to blame! E-especially th-the… uh…” Red shook his head and got back on track. “B-But you were just my… his s-support, y-you were what I… what h-he needed to l-lean back on w-when that… thing… happened, but you weren’t there when he needed it. A-and b-because o-of that, h-he caved. So, now w-we’re… H-he’s… crippled.” The way Red constantly seemed to be reminding himself that he was simply a persona, and not the original, made Edge’s insides churn.

 

“B-but, uh, y-you can f-fix this, of course.” Red said, smiling weakly, but genuinely. But then he added hastily, “That is, i-if y-you w-want t-to, y-you obviously d-don’t need to, b-but, I mean—”

 

Edge cut him off, before he could shove any more of his foot into his mouth. “Yes. I want to.”

 

Red looked surprised, before he smiled at his brother.

 

“There’s _nothing_ the Great and Terrible Papyrus can’t do. Th-thank you.” He turned to Sans. “You can help t-too, i-if you r-really want t-to. Y-you’re important to… h-him. Us. A-all of us, really. B-but uh, yeah, you both got r-rid of Jack. He’s gone. Red n-needs to g-get r-rid of a-all the personalities if you r-really want him to get better. Fell will b-be the h-hardest, and Cherry… y-you just have to ask him to l-leave nicely, and h-he’s gone. Cherry’s w-weird like that. B-but, uh, a-anyways… Th-there’s a-always something stemming from Red’s subconscious that the personalities are here for. L-like, Jack was to h-help Red defend himself a-and th-the people he cares about o-or something.”

 

Edge thought for a minute.

 

“So, since we removed Jack, does that mean Red is incapable of defending himself?” Sans asked.

 

Red shook his head. “No, n-now Red has to d-defend himself on h-his own. B-before, w-whenever Red was threatened, Jack w-would show up a-and defend him. N-now red h-has to m-make the choice of w-what t-to do on h-his o-own. Jack was more or less i-infused with Red’s c-conscious, I think?”

 

“So, what does that make you?” Edge asked.

 

Red coughed, and looked at Edge fearfully for a second, but tried to better compose himself. He tried to say something, but his jaw didn’t seem to work. Finally, he managed to stutter out, “W-w-what d-do you m-mean?”

 

Edge rolled his eyes, and Red stiffened. “What are you for, if Jack was for protection?”

 

“O-oh, uh, I-I’m kind of j-just… Holding onto all his anxiety and f-fears. A-along with his memory of the past. I t-try to keep him calm and sh-shit. If it doesn’t work, and his anxiety k-kind of spirals out of control, th-then I sh-show up.”

 

Edge nodded. “Okay.”

 

No one spoke for awhile again.

 

Eventually, Red looked up at Edge, hope written openly across his face. “U-um, i-if y-you want, then, I-I c-could help you! W-with, uh, the um p-personalities.”

 

Edge looked confused, but before he could say anything, Sans asked, “How?”

 

Red shrugged, kicking at the ground. “I-I could b-be l-like Cherry, b-but instead of informing you o-of _when_ a personality is going to sh-show up, I-I can t-tell you about them.”

 

Edge was silent, and so was Sans. Red started to sweat nervously.

 

Edge was the one to break the silence. “You don’t want to go.” It wasn’t phrased as a question so Red didn’t answer it like one.

 

Red started to shake where he stood. “I-I don’t want to go,” he conceded, staring intently at the ground, before looking back up to Edge. “I-I can be useful, I-I swear! You won’t be d-disappointed! I-I c-can help! I can h-help I can help…”

 

Edge frowned, and Sans stood up.

 

But Red kept going. “I-I can o-offer f-facts! Y’know, like, uh, f-for instance, Red has 9 other personalities, n-not including me, Cherry, Fell, and Jack, So, th-that leaves him with a total of 13. Th-though since Jack is gone, it’s 12 now. B-but i-if left unchecked, th-the number c-can start to grow. The h-highest recorded number of personalities a p-person has had w-was 96.”

 

Sans reached to put a hand on Red’s shoulder, but he flinched, so Sans moved his hand away.

 

Edge crouched down, and was eye level with Red, who was currently hunched in on himself.

 

“A-and! And… I-I can tell you all their names, th-their traits, w-what they’re like, what they like, what they don’t like… All those things! A-and then… when you’re done… you can g-get r-rid of me. I j-just want to be helpful to you. I-I just want you to say—…” Red cut himself off and looked at the ground.

 

Edge looked conflicted. “What did you want me to say?”

 

Red kept looking at the ground quietly.

 

“That wasn’t an option.” Edge growled, and Red flinched back, and he looked anywhere but his brother’s eyes.

 

“I-I… I j-just want you to say… th-three words. Th-they’re simple, p-platonic, and th-they’re only eight letters. Th-they cost nothing, no pride, no dignity is at risk. P-please.” Red closed his eyes and hung his head.

 

Edge’s eyes widened. “Oh.” He said quietly.

 

Red squeezed his eyes shut tighter, and he didn’t dare breathe.

 

“…I love you, Brother.” Edge finally said, tears in his eyes. He wiped them away as soon as he realized they were there.

 

Red’s eyes flew open, and those bright red pinpricks of light searched Edge’s face for any sarcasm or lies. Not that he’d care of course. Hearing the words on its own was like music to his ears. He was genuinely surprised that he didn’t just beat him then and there for asking such a stupid request. But he was happy that his brother had said the right words, and not... a less appealing alternative.

 

“B-Boss, th-that was 15 letters, n-not eight,” Red said, but he was smiling all the same. “I love you, t-too”

 

Sans smiled at how they finally managed to get through that, and with barely any shouting! What an amazing feat.

 

“And, yes, we could definitely use your help, if you’d lend it to us,” Edge said fondly.

 

Red’s eyes widened, and he gasped. “R-really? Y-you r-really mean it?” Edge nodded. Red looked positively shining at that response, and Red laid back in bed, in the position Red was in earlier. “Y-you w-won’t regret this! I p-promise! I-I’ll help you get y-your brother back!” Red closed his eyes. “Oh, right, one more thing.” He opened his eyes and looked at Edge and Sans seriously. “Once you guys g-get r-rid of me, Red w-will have a-all his m-memories back. Like, _all_ of them. Even things he’s f-forgotten in the past probably. I-it’ll b-be hard for him, b-but he’ll p-probably be t-too prideful t-to ask for h-help. Y-you’ll have to help him through it. Or not, if that’s… Anyway! I-I’ll be seeing ya soon with more information!”

 

And on that note, Red closed his eyes and his breathing slowed.

 

Everything was still for a moment, until Sans finally turned to Edge. “What was he talking about? When he was talking about when he needed you as a crutch, what did he mean?”

 

Edge sighed, sitting on the floor. “Well. I, uh, I didn’t tell you that when we first met, because I didn’t think my brother wanted me to say anything about it, from his silence and all. Now I realize, he just had no idea what we were talking about. He probably just thought we were telling a story or something.”

 

Edge stopped talking, and Sans motioned for him to go on.

 

He hesitated before saying, “You won’t tell Red I told you, right? Or anyone else?”

 

“Of course not.”

 

“Okay.” Edge still looked reluctant, but he sighed. “Well, back home, when Red and I were still…” _Fighting? Hurting each other?_ “Tense… around each other, Red was out at his sentry post after hours, because I guess he didn’t want to come home. He was approached by some horse monster, who tried to… who had… _touched_ Red, but Red managed to kill him and teleport home. He told me, and I helped him out for a while with stuff. As in, I walked him to his station, and walked him back. That went on for about a week or two. Then things went back to the way they were before. We’d fight, he’d storm off, come back drunk, all the usual. Just a few things were different. He was more against touch than usual, but it wasn’t too hindering in day-to-day work.”

 

Edge shuddered but continued on even though he hated the next part. “So, I guess, one night, I may have over-stepped.” _That’s an understatement. Edge had cracked Red’s fucking_ skull _open!_ “Red left to stay at the Inn. That had happened before, so I didn’t think too much of it. I mean, the past incident was about a month ago then. But, when he didn’t return the day after that, I was getting…” _Annoyed?_ “…Concerned. So, I went to the Inn, and asked where Red was. The lady said Red didn’t check in, and that she hadn’t seen him at all the past few days. Not even on his way to work. So, I went looking through the town for him, which revealed nothing. Soon enough, I started searching the woods, back alleys. Nothing. I decided that I’d file a missing persons case, but before I could, Red just showed up at the front door, beaten and cold.”

 

Sans was on the edge of his seat, his face looking horrified, and he could probably see where this was going.

 

“So, I tried to take him inside, but he wouldn’t let me touch him. Instead, he crawled inside by himself. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just grabbed a bunch of blankets and handed them to him. I took care not to touch him though. I asked what happened to him and why he was gone for so long. He told me that… that he was… ugh. Okay, there was a group of monsters that knew the horse guy that Red killed, and they tortured and raped him. One of them was always in… contact… with him, so he couldn’t teleport away, and he was lucky that there was some distraction outside, that caused the one touching him to briefly move away, so he could teleport.”

 

A hand flew up to Sans’s mouth and he almost wanted to heave. A group of people doing… doing… _that_ to Red?? God, it’s a _good_ thing he can’t remember that!

 

“I know. That’s how I felt when I found out. They didn’t last too long after that.”

 

Sans felt his eye glowing blue. It was burning bright enough that it _hurt_.

 

How _dare_ those _bastards_ do that to Red??

 

He took comfort in the fact that they were dead. Did that make Sans a bad person? Fuck it, whatever. He didn’t care.

 

Edge seemed equally troubled, if not more so.

 

Edge was quiet when he said, “And when Red needed me to help him through that I… I…” _Laughed and told Red he was fine. I didn’t bother to hear his side of it! I treated him just the same after a month, if not more so, because I thought he was being WEAK!_ Edge cut off with a choked sob. “God, I’m such a shitty brother.”

 

Sans pat him on the shoulder. “Well, there’s always room for improvement. And, hey, you’ve already addressed the issue, so now you just have to fix it, yeah? After all, knowing’s half the battle.”

 

Edge was quiet before saying, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right! I don’t give up and roll around in self-pity like Red and you (no offense)! I’M THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS! NO PROBLEM IS TOO BIG FOR ME TO HANDLE!” After shouting his signature cackle, he ran down the stairs for… something. Sans didn’t quite know what, but he didn’t really care.

 

Sans looked at Red, who was still asleep in bed. He put his hand on Red’s skull, but to soothe who, he wasn’t sure.

 

Red opened his eyes, and gasped, shooting up straight, his eye lights turning a multitude of different shades of red, until the lights just blinked out altogether.

 

Sans swiped his hand away and watched Red in confusion. That hadn’t happened before… Is that bad or good?

 

“Uh hey Red, ‘sup? Sleep well?” Sans asked nervously.

 

Red didn’t reply. He moved his head from side to side, but Sans was almost completely convinced that he wasn’t actually seeing anything.

 

“Red?” Sans tried. “You okay, buddy?”

 

Red turned to look at him, his perpetual grin stile in place but it fell flat. His dark sockets made it look that much worse.

 

He still didn’t say anything.

 

Sans looked around uneasily. “Uh, snap out of it, would ya? Yer kinda creepin’ me out.”

 

Red remained silent.

 

Sans snapped his fingers in front of Red’s face and his white eye lights sputtered back into existence. Sans was kind of surprised that worked, but he just rolled with it.

 

Red looked around, before looking at Sans again. “Oh, hey Sans, ‘sup?” Red scrutinized Sans’s expression. “Ya look like ya jus’ watched The Poltergeist. What’s wrong?”

 

Sans snorted, but he was relieved that everything was okay now. “Please, that movie sucked. It wasn’t even that scary.”

 

“Then howsabout Paranormal Acivity?”

 

“Seen it,” Sans said with an apathetic grin.

 

Truthfully, that movie freaked him out, but Red didn’t need to know that.

 

“Maybe… Oh! Silence of the Lambs?” Red asked grinning.

 

“I haven’t seen that one… Is it freaky, scary, or creepy?” Sans asked, interested.

 

Red shrugged. “I haven’t seen it either. I think it’s more of a suspenseful horror, but I’m not sure.”

 

“Then let’s watch it tonight or somethin’.” Sans suggested smoothly. Honestly, he just wanted to spend time with Red, and he was anxious for his answer, but he tried not to show it.

 

Red shrugged, grinning. “Sure, I love movie nights, and TV dinners.”

 

Sans relaxed a bit and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

 

“Heheh you seemed nervous. Didja think I’d say no?” Red teased, getting up. His grin twitched as he stood up fully.

 

Sans shrugged, a bit embarrassed he was that transparent. “Ya never know.” Sans said as he stood up as well.

 

“I don’t really feel like walkin’. Meet ya on the couch,” Red said, teleporting away.

 

Sans followed.

 

He already had an entire plan for the night with Red, and he needed to set it in action. Nothing was going to ruin this night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for waiting patiently, once again! Also, thank you all for your lovely comments!


	5. A Perfect Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly just some kustard fluff, and also... SOME EDGEPUFF! 
> 
> Sans and Red also watch Silence of the Lambs, but there are no spoilers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm updating early, because I have a family trip tomorrow, and I doubt i'll be able to do anything during then. 
> 
> And, I know I say this a lot, but words cannot describe how happy I am to receive all this support! It really means a lot to me. 
> 
> You guys melt my heart. I hope you enjoy!

 

“BROTHER! WELCOME TO THE LAND OF THE LIVING! HOW ARE YOU FEELING?” Edge greeted Red as he appeared on the couch.

 

“Not bad, not good, I’m more in between. How’re you doin’?” Red said grinning lazily.

 

“I’M DOING WELL.”

 

“Well, well, well, that’s always good.” Red grinned further.

 

Edge rolled his eyes, a subtle gesture that you could really only tell from his body posture.

 

“WELL, ANYHOW— SHIT!” Edge face-palmed.

 

Red started to laugh, coughing a bit, but laughing nonetheless.

        

He loved these games he’d play with his brother. He’d say a word repetitively and whoever said the word next would lose.

 

Edge sighed, fighting a smile. “IF YOU’RE DONE FOOLING AROUND, PAPYRUS AND I HAVE MADE YOU AND SANS DINNER.”

 

Red looked at him confused. “Why only us?”

 

“EVERYONE ELSE ALREADY ATE.”

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

Edge put his hands on his hips expectantly.

 

Red’s eyes wandered around the room, then back to Edge. “What?”

 

“ARE YOU COMING TO THE TABLE?”

 

Before Red could even bother answering, Papyrus poked his head around the doorway leading to the kitchen, and tapped edge on the shoulder, who whirled around, mildly annoyed at the interruption.

 

“WHAT?”

 

Papyrus gestured for him to come into the kitchen, and Edge followed, curiosity outweighing his annoyance.

 

Red could hear a hushed discussion in the kitchen, but he couldn’t quite make out any words.

 

Eventually, Edge and Papyrus came back out. Papyrus cleared his throat. “SANS WILL BE OUT IN A MOMENT WITH THE MOVIE, WE’LL GET YOUR FOOD FOR YOU.”

 

Red nodded his thanks and started scrolling through his phone, stretched out on half of the couch. If he didn’t have to do anything, then he’d make the most of it.

 

Edge and Papyrus disappeared for a second and came back with a plate of hotdogs and hotcats, strategically placed on the plate. On the side of the plate were ketchup and mustard shots.

        

It didn’t look too bad. It actually looked really good, and he made a point to say so aloud.

        

“WHY THANK YOU!” Papyrus exclaimed, his face lighting up. “BUT IT WAS REALLY EDGE WHO THOUGHT OF IT. I ONLY HELPED MAKE THEM.”

        

Red turned to Edge who was smiling bashfully, which was weird to see an expression like that on his brother’s face. He was usually gloating or proud when he was complimented, but never bashful.

        

“WELL, YOUR HELP WAS GREATLY APPRECIATED.” Edge said, looking at the ground, his face a light red.

        

Red was shocked.

        

That was as close to a compliment as you could get with Edge. And Edge didn’t just hand out compliments to anybody. And judging by Edge’s blush…

        

A grin wormed its way onto Red’s face.

        

It looked like his brother had a crush!

        

It was at that moment exactly, that he realized he wanted to mess with his brother’s feelings and make a bunch of terrible jokes that Papyrus probably wouldn’t get.

        

“And I bet that his help would be greatly appreciated in something else, hmm? Hmm?” Red teased, laughing at his implication.

        

Edge’s face burned a deep scarlet. “SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

        

Red kept going. “Fuck? Is that where your mind is? Edge, I just meant help with the dishes or something.”

        

“LAUNGUAGE!” Papyrus scolded, but he looked completely confused and lost.

        

Red stifled his laughter with the sleeve of his jacket.

        

Edge’s face burned even brighter, and he looked _so_ _mad_ at Red, it made it even more worth it.

        

“YOU’RE UNBELIVABLE! I SUPPORT YOU AND YOUR DECISIONS, AND _THIS_ IS HOW YOU TREAT ME?!”

        

Red, attempted to stop laughing, but he failed horribly. “Y-You know I’m just messin’ with ya. I support you and yer choices completely.” Red said, finally getting ahold of himself enough to string his words together to form a coherent sentence.

        

“WELL, YOU HAVE NO SAY IN THE MATTER ANYWAY, SO, BLEH,” Edge said, sticking out his tongue at Red, prematurely.

        

“I bet you can think of several different places that you’d want to put that.” If Edge wanted to act like a child, then Red would respond like a child. A highly inappropriate child.

        

“AGH! YOU’RE SO LEWD! I’M LEAVING! ENJOY YOUR DATE OR WHATEVER.”

        

Red’s face flushed. “I-it’s not a date—” But Edge had already left.

        

Papyrus looked at Red. “WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?”

        

Red considered telling Papyrus about his brother’s feelings.

        

Edge more than likely wouldn’t like that, but… But, it was nice to feel in power of something that could possibly determine his brother’s future. He wouldn’t screw around with it, but he’d like to do a bit more than just shrugging and looking away.

        

Besides, if he didn’t stage an intervention, then they might never tell each other how they felt. He wanted his brother to lead a happy life, and Red was sure that Papyrus could give that to him.

        

Edge was kind of a wuss when it came to love. Not LOVE, though Red was still rather confused about the latter.

        

Red looked around dramatically, even though he knew no one else was around right now.

        

“How… do you… feel about Edge?” Red asked in an overly hushed tone. “Be honest, I promise I won’t tell.”

        

Papyrus knit his brows together before kneeling down to be more at eyelevel with Red. “Pinky-promise?”

        

Red rolled his eye lights but held up his pinky finger anyway. “Pinky-promise.”

        

Papyrus linked their Pinkies together before leaning down to whisper (or shout quietly, in his case) where Red’s ear would’ve been. “He seems like a cool dude. I really want to get to know him better. Plus… he… seems really nice…” Papyrus sounded timid. Papyrus never sounded timid. Never. Not even when he _should_ sound even the _tiniest_ bit reserved. Red looked at Papyrus’s face and grinned even wider at the slight orange covering his cheekbones.

        

_Oh my god oh my god this is too perfect._

        

Red winked at Papyrus and asked, “Do ya want some advice?” Papyrus nodded his head vigorously. “’Aight. I say… Go fer it.”

        

Papyrus blinked.

        

“REALLY? JUST… UP AND ASK?”

        

Red shrugged and nodded. “Course. I can _guarantee_ that he’ll say yes.”

        

Papyrus seemed unsure for a second, before he came to decision and he had determination written across his face.

        

“ALRIGHT! I WILL! NO CHALLENGE IS TOO GREAT FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS AFTER ALL!” Papyrus said, running down the hall that Edge left through, his trademark laugh following him.

        

Red sighed, relaxing back into the couch, feeling accomplished, tucking his phone into his pocket.

        

Red looked at the hotdogs and hotcats. At this rate, they were getting cold. If Sans didn’t come soon then they’d end up gross and the buns would get soggy.

        

Red pulled out his phone again and texted Sans, asking him when he’d be ready.

        

Not a second later Sans showed up, with a DVD case in his hands, holding it in front of him like a shield.

        

“Finally. The food’s gettin’ cold, an’ I’m gettin’ hungry.”

        

Sans smiled apologetically. “Sorry ‘bout that. Got lost in thought I guess.”

        

Red shrugged, grabbing a hotdog and one of the shots of mustard. He looked between the two and downed the shot, eating the hotdog in a few bites after. He didn’t care if Sans thought he ate like an animal. He was hungry.

        

Red noticed Sans staring at him. Red swallowed his food and said, “What? I wasn’t jokin’ when I said I was hungry. All I had was toast today.”

        

Sans just shrugged and put the DVD into the blue-ray player.

        

He made his way to the couch, sitting next to Red, swiping a hotcat and a ketchup shot. Sans actually put the condiment on the food and ate it like a normal person. Red tried not to notice how Sans chewed, because he knew that was creepy, and he tried not to notice how his hands twitched when Red leaned forward for more food, or how Sans leaned a little closer to him when the movie started with a woman jogging through the forest. He tried not to notice all these things, but it was hard.

        

“Oh my god, this is terrifying already,” Red stated, not looking the least bit scared, despite his words.

        

Sans looked at him, an amused look on his face. “What? How?”

        

“Physical activity. It’s horrifying. It feels like I’m losin’ weight jus’ watchin’ her.”

        

Sans chuckled. “That’s not quite how it works.”

        

“Are ya sure? I feel lighter, an’ slightly more worn out.”

        

“I think that’s just… You know what, just be quiet, we’re watching a movie.”

        

“Buzzkill.”

        

Sans just rolled his eyes and turned up the volume of the TV.

        

“Oh, wait, can you pause it fer a sec? Gotta tell ya somethin’ kinda important.”

        

Sans shrugged but did as he asked.

        

Red grinned, turning to face Sans. “Okay, I just found this out, and I find it _hilarious_. Your brother and my brother like each other, but neither of them wanted to make the first move.”

        

Sans gasped, smiling wider. “Such scandalous information! Do you suggest that we take a bet on which of them will make the first move?”

        

Red nodded vigorously. Sans didn’t know that he had told Papyrus to make the first move, so he had an advantage. Sans thought for a second. “Well, usually, I’d go with Papyrus, but he’s never been too confident around his crushes, so… I guess I’m going with Edge.”

        

“I’m guessing Papyrus, ‘cuz, jeez, Edge’s so easily flustered, I don’t think he’d be able to _mustard_ up the courage,” Red chuckled, downing another mustard shot.

        

“Twenty bucks? I win, you… Oh, right. You don’t have any money.”

        

“That’s right rub it in, why don’t’cha,” Red grumbled, looking back to the TV.

        

Sans pat him on the shoulder. “Well, we’ll just think of a different prize… Hmm…”

        

Red grinned. “How about a kiss?”

        

Sans looked to him, then pressed their teeth together. Red blushed madly when Sans pulled away.

        

“I meant as a prize!” Red said laughing.

        

Sans blinked, then flushed a bright blue in embarrassment. “Oh. Uh, my bad.”

        

Red pulled Sans back and pressed their teeth together again. When they pulled away once more, Red told him, “I didn’t really mind, though.”

        

Sans laughed, still a bit sheepish. He sounded kind of nervous.

        

“Hey, relax, alright? I promise I won’t bite.” Red’s eyes flashed mischievously. “Not unless you want me to.”

        

Sans’s face burned even brighter, and Red laughed again, feeling hysterical. He was in a pretty good mood tonight, and he was glad.

        

He wrapped an arm around Sans’s shoulders. “No, but really. Stop being so tense. This is a fun night! It should be spent with laughter and bad decisions that seem great at the time but probably aren’t and you’ll more than likely regret them later, but! The point is, you shouldn’t be worrying over things!”

        

Sans nodded, visibly forcing himself to relax. Sans picked up the remote. “Play?”

        

“Sure. I need to know if this lady dies from exhaustion or not.”

         

They watched the rest of the movie mostly in silence, spare a few jokes or jabs at the logic. Whenever Hannibal Lector came on screen, Red would always point and say, “That’s my favorite character, right there.” Sans would just laugh and shush him. When Red asked who Sans’s favorite character was, he just said it was the main character. He never remembered her name, even though they said it about a thousand times already.

        

Sometimes they jumped at certain scares, or Sans would say ‘eww’ at a certain part and Red would just grin. Especially when there was a gory part.

        

Finally, when the movie was over, Red was completely relaxed, like that movie didn’t even phase him. Red had to admit, it was a bit disturbing, but it wasn’t quite at the point where he felt scared. He feels like he’s seen worse, but he can’t quite remember where…

        

Sans looked like he wished he could say the same.

        

He jumped at every sound, and it didn’t help that the lights were off. Red only laughed and pulled Sans closer to him.

        

“So, you wanna watch a comedy, or somethin’ relaxin’?” Red asked Sans who was trembling, looking almost convinced there was someone behind him.

        

Sans nodded weakly.

        

Red took the remote and flipped through the channels before finding that show that they had seen a couple days ago.

        

They were watching an episode mainly having to do with one uptight cop and his girlfriend who was recently getting out of jail.

        

It was more entertaining than it sounded, and soon, Sans was less of a tight, trembling ball of nerves. He wasn’t exactly as relaxed as Red, but he wasn’t too far off from it either.

        

When the episode was over, Red looked at Sans. He looked like he was trying not to fall asleep.

        

“Howsabout we get some sleep now? You seem tired.” Red suggested. Sans snapped his eyes open at that.

        

“No, no, I’m perfectly awake—” Sans broke off into a perfectly timed yawn.

        

“No, yer not. C’mon, we’re gettin’ ya ta bed.”

         

Sans didn’t move, not even when Red tried to pull him off the couch, wincing when he leaned his weight on one of his legs. He ignored it.

        

“Really? Are ya that scared?” Red asked, scratching the back of his head. “You won’t even get to yer own bed…”

        

Sans shrugged, looking at the ground.

        

Red thought for a moment. “Well, I suppose… What if you slept with me? Would ya feel better then?” He asked.

        

Red honestly didn’t mind. He actually feels better being in company of another person. Especially Sans. He seems to carry around a contagious air of relaxation and apathy, so it’s hard to feel anxious around him. That, and the voices in his head seem to calm down when around him.

        

Sans hesitated then nodded. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” Sans said in a barely audible whisper.

        

Red nodded and rolled his bright white eye lights. “Would ya like me ta carry you, too?”

        

Sans grinned. “Yes, actually. Not having to walk around sounds great.”

        

“Great. Great fer who?” Red asked, looking at Sans, thinking of the best way to carry him.

        

“For me. Not really for you.”

        

Red sighed. “Okay, I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to lift you, but I guess I’ll try.”

        

Red scooped one of his arms underneath Sans’s legs, and slid the other under his back. Red counted to three in his head before lifting Sans off the couch. Sans yelped and grabbed onto the fur of his hoodie.

        

Red chuckled, and took a couple steps forward, before almost stumbling over his feet. He cursed, but he balanced himself just before he fell over.

        

Red decided he’d just teleport to his bed instead. Way better then taking any chances.

        

As soon as he appeared next to his mattress, he placed Sans down. “There ya go.”

        

Red walked around to the other side, and sat down, pulling out his mini-journal, scribbling a few things down, before he shoved it back in his pocket.

        

Red was taking off his jacket, before he slept in it for the third time in a row, when he heard Sans stutter, “W-what are you doing??”

        

Red was about to answer honestly, when he decided to mess around with him instead. “I sleep in the nude.”

        

His only reply was a bunch of incoherent noises. Sans’s blush grew brighter, and it was practically illuminating the entire room now.

        

Red laughed, saying, “I’m jus’ messin’ with ya. I’m only takin’ off my jacket so I won’t sleep in it again.”

        

“Oh okay.” The blue glow diminished slightly, but not entirely.

        

Red finished taking off his jacket, revealing his long-sleeved red sweater and kicked off his slippers before flopping on the bed, pushing himself under the covers.

        

Sans immediately latched onto Red, burying his head in the red fabric of his shirt.

        

Red wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he just draped his arms around Sans like a hug.

 

“Good night, Sans.”

 

“Good night, Red.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, any names you think would work well for Horrortale Papyrus? Besides Jaws or Snaggletooth, those feel a bit offensive to me... Right now I have either Mango or Tangerine, but please, I'm begging you, feel free to offer other names.


	6. Moving Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The swap bro's move out!
> 
> And a bit more of an advance in the other's relationships ;) If you catch my meaning
> 
> No porn or anything though, I don't think I can write that, even if I wanted to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry that I'm a day late, but I'll have a double update today! I just need to edit the next one, and it'll work out just fine.
> 
> WARNING!! Self-harm in this chapter! And also above the belt bone touching, but y'know that's pretty much it. If you don't like reading about that stuff, then ask for a brief summary of this chapter, and I'll leave out certain parts.
> 
> Also, I'm using a new set up, so my writing's going to have indents and stuff, like a normal book set-up, because that's how I'm used to writing. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

         “MY BROTHER AND I ARE MOVING OUT,” Blueberry announced at breakfast.

         Papyrus’s face immediately fell at those words, and Sans looked dismayed.

         Edge only seemed annoyed, because they made Papyrus look sad. Red was more or less indifferent, but made himself look like someone kicked his puppy, for the sake of looking less like an insensitive prick. Granted, he would sort of miss Stretch. Red’s sad that he couldn’t get the chance to get to know the other skeleton better.

         “WHY?” Papyrus asked, sounding as heartbroken as Red’s metaphorical puppy.

         Blueberry pat him on the shoulder. “IT’S NOT BECAUSE OF YOU. WE’LL STILL VISIT ANYWAY! NO, IT’S JUST BECAUSE OF THE… WELL… INTERESTING LIVING SITUTATION THAT BRINGS THE UNWANTED GUESTS,” Blueberry said, looking everywhere but Red.

         Red couldn’t remember any unwanted guests ever coming over. Well, besides that one time, but they were only here for a total of five minutes before he and his brother took care of that.

         Maybe they came over during his memory gaps?

         But, why only on his memory gaps? Why not on any other day? Maybe his memory gaps were caused by the guests…? No, that can’t be it, because then wouldn’t everyone would have the memory gaps? Blueberry seems to remember them fine…

         Something’s going on here.

         “We agreed not to talk about them.” Sans muttered darkly, looking at Blueberry.

         He raised his hands in a calming gesture. “YES, OF COURSE, MY APOLOGIES. BUT, ANYWAYS, MY BROTHER AND I HAVE ALREADY PACKED OUR THINGS, AND I JUST CAME TO TELL YOU ALL. STRETCH SAID HE WAS NEVER GOOD WITH GOODBYES, SO I’M DOING IT FOR HIM.”

         Edge rolled his eyes, while Red just kept eating his food, occasionally glancing at Blueberry, still trying to look hurt.

         “WE’RE ALL GOING TO MISS YOU BOTH DEARLY. THE HOUSE WON’T BE THE SAME WITHOUT YOU.” Papyrus pledged solemnly.

         “Already missin’ ya,” Red said, to avoid being rude.

         “I’m lookin’ forward to your next visit. Do you know when it might be?” Sans asked.

         “IT’LL PROBABLY BE A MONTH OR SO FROM NOW.”

         Sans nodded. “Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

         Edge cleared his throat and said, “I’M SAD TO SEE YOU GO, YOU WERE DEFINETLY IMPROVING IN YOUR COOKING. I ONLY HOPE THAT YOU CONTINUE IMPROVING OVER THE MONTH UNTIL YOUR VISIT.”

         Blueberry nodded, thankful that Edge at least said something complimentary.

         Papyrus had tiny tears in his eye sockets, but he played it off well by blinking repeatedly, pretending there was something in his eye sockets. “THERE MUST BE SOME DUST IN THE AIR OR SOMETHING.”

         Red rolled his eye lights. “It’s aight ta cry, y’know. It’s good fer ya.”

         Papyrus nodded slowly, and he let the tears fall. He stood up and walked over to Blueberry, giving him a crushing hug. “I’M GOING TO MISS YOU. IN FACT, I’M GOING TO MISS YOU SO MUCH, THAT I’M MISSING YOU ALREADY.”

         Blueberry returned the hug. “I’LL MISS YOU, TOO. IN FACT, I, AS WELL, AM ALREADY MISSING YOU.”

         After a couple minutes Blueberry dashed upstairs, grabbing his bags, hiding his face as he walked by everyone. “GOODBYE!”

         Papyrus waved, even though he couldn’t see it.

         When the door slammed shut, no one said anything for a couple minutes until Red broke the silence. “What was he talking about? What uninvited guests?”

         No one looked at him but Edge. “DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT. WE’RE BUST FIXING THAT. SO, JOKES ON HIM, THEY PROBABLY WON’T BE COMING ANYMORE, VERY SOON.”

         “Hopefully,” Sans said, staring at his plate.

         Red sighed and shrugged. “Alright. I guess you’re gonna pull a sort-of-answer-my-question-but-not-really. Okay. Cool.”

         Red picks up his plate and puts it next to the sink, still with food on it.

         He teleports to his room, locking his door, even though he knows it won’t do anything if they really wanted to get in. It was just a way of saying “I want my privacy”.

         Red sat on the floor, leaning against his bedframe.

         He started to pick at the scars on his arms. It hurt, but not as much as his “family” avoiding certain subjects with him.

         Did they think he couldn’t handle it or something? Was that it? Did they think he was too stupid to understand it, so they don’t tell him to avoid explaining it? Is that it?

         That’s stupid. It’s stupid, stupid, stupid.

         **_You’re stupid. You’re stupid, stupid, stupid._**

         Red pulled up the sleeve to his jacket and sweater, looking at the scars. He read the words over and over until he believed them enough that he hated it. He examined a deep, wide cut in his radius.

         He poked his sharpened phalange through it and marrow leaked out, even through his finger still stuck in his arm. God, that hurt.

         Red _wasn’t_ a masochist. The pain just helps him forget about all the things bothering him. He didn’t enjoy pain, per say, he just liked how cleansing and sharp it felt.

         He twisted his finger in further, sucking in a breath.

         …Maybe he was a masochist.

         Suddenly there was a loud bang at his door.

         Red growled. “What the hell do ya want?”

         “I WANT YOU TO STOP POUTING IN YOUR ROOM LIKE A CHILD,” Edge ordered.

         “I am not pouting!”

         “THEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING??”

         “Messin’ around on my phone!” he lied, twisting his finger in anger.

         Edge laughed, like that answer amused him. “WELL GET OUT _HERE_ AND MESS AROUND ON YOUR PHONE.”

         “No! I’ll do whatever the hell I want to!” Red said, jabbing his finger in further, wincing.

         “LIKE YOU DON’T DO THAT ENOUGH ALREADY!”

         Red’s brow bones shot up. Oh, this is where he was going? “No! I don’t actually! Those therapy days? I’m forced to go! Those pills I take? I’m forced to take them! Granted there are those days after my memory gaps that you guys do everything for me, but then I’m forced to sit down and let everyone else handle everything! I don’t feel like I’m in control of my life half the time! And it’s _my life!”_

         Red added another finger, jabbing that one into the indention as well. He felt dread settle in his gut as no one answered. He felt like he just made a mistake, and now he wanted to fix it. He braced himself for his foot he was about to swallow.

         “But, hey, whatever, right? It doesn’t matter!” Red laughed nervously, trying to think how to fix this. “Thanks, fer listenin’ ta my bullshit. That’ll be ten dollars.”

         There was nothing on the other side of the door.

         “Sorry, I feel like I need to charge people for random things now to get money.”

He’d try to make jokes to lighten the mood. It didn’t seem to be working. Especially since he was too nervous to make any really good jokes, that didn’t sound forced.

         “No, really, sorry though. Fer that whole… twenty-second fiasco.”

         Still silence.

         “I’ll try not to do it again,” he tried instead.

         No answer.

         “Shit. Well I fucked that up. I’ve gotta learn to keep my thoughts to myself…” Red whispered to himself. He added a third finger, groaning in pain.

         “Ow…”

         “If it hurts, then stop doing it.”

         Red whirled around to look at… Stretch?

         “I thought you were gone? And what are you doing in my room?”

         Stretch shrugged, looking at his hand that was in the process of digging into his bones. “I forgot something, so I came back. I heard you and Edge shouting, so. Here I am.”

         Red shook his head. “Okay, do you have what you need?”

         Stretch nodded.

         “Okay, then you can leave.”

         “Not until you tell me why.” Stretch said, nodding to his scars.

         Red shrugged. “It distracts me.”

         “Pretty shitty distraction method.”

         Red shrugged. “Well, it works.”

         Stretch didn’t say anything. Neither did Red.

         “So, does anyone else know?” Stretch asked finally.

         “I hope not.”

         “Why?”

         “Because… They’ll tell me to stop. They already force me to do enough. This is my body, I’ll do what I want with it,” Red said, jabbing a forth finger in just for emphasis. He almost regretted it. _Almost._

         “Why do you think they’d force you to do those things?”

         “I dunno! Stop asking me questions!”

         Stretch ignored that and kept pushing. “Yes, you do know. You know it’s not out of spite. You know your brother, Sans, or Papyrus would never do that to you. So, what is it?”

         “W-well…”

         “I’ll give you a hint. It starts with ‘c’ and rhymes with ‘hare’. They _what_ about you.”

         “No. No, they don’t. They can’t.”

         “Why not?”

         “I haven’t given them a reason to.”

         Stretch looked at him dubiously. “You really think so?”

         Red nodded. He drilled his fingers further into his arm, wincing again.

         Stretch shook his head. “People care about you, Red. There might not always be a reason why, but there’s always something keepin’ the people around you. Your humor, your loyalty, just all sorts of things about you. Things you think are trashy about you, someone else might find wonderful.”

         Red started shaking his head, pressing his fingers even deeper, his entire hand curling around his radius. “No. No, you’re just saying that. You’re just sayin’ that to make me stop hurting myself.”

         Stretch tilted his head. “And why do you think I’d do that?”

         Red froze. “I-I-I…”

         Stretch sighed, and walked over to Red, patting him on the head. “You’ll get there someday. Just know, that this,” He gestured to the scars, “isn’t helping anyone.”

         And with that, Stretch vanished.

         Red twisted his fingers again but pulled them out after a couple seconds.

         The pain was still there though.

         Red fell onto his side, breathing heavily, clutching his injured arm to his chest, still reeling from what Stretch had said.

         _I don’t…_ _I don’t want to keep doing this… I don't want to go on. Everything's just... too much. Wouldn't it be easier if I just... ended it all?_

_**Don’t be stupid. You**_ **do** _**want to keep going, and you will keep doing life, because I said so. Besides, how would Sans and Edge feel?** _

Red froze and slowly nodded.

         _Okay. Alright. You got me there._

Red slowly sat up, and started to heal his arm, and soon, the marrow leak slowed to a stop. He could feel his magic reserves draining, however, so he decided that he shouldn’t be teleporting for a while.

         Eventually he pulled his sleeve down and stumbled to his feet. He felt a bit light headed, but after a second, he was able to walk.

         Red shuffled to the door, collapsing onto it and he unlocked it. Red took an unsteady step back and opened the door wide open.

         No one was there.

         Red shuffled to the couch and found Sans watching TV. Red fell onto him, wrapping his arms around Sans. “Sorry.”

         Sans looked around, and awkwardly pat him on the back. “Uh, what for?”

         “For being an idiot.”

         Sans chuckled patting Red’s skull. “You’re not an idiot. You just have occasional lapses in judgment. It’s really a normal thing.”

         Red buried his head in the fabric of Sans’s shirt, sighing.

         “I need to apologize to my brother. Do you know where he is?” Red asked after a minute, finally sitting up.

         Sans shrugged. “Probably his room, if I’d have to guess.”

         Red nodded. “Thanks.”

         He pulled himself off the couch onto unsteady legs, and made his way to the staircase, using the wall as support.

         “Uh, ya need some help there?” Sans asked, suddenly right beside him.

         Red grinned sheepishly and wrapped an arm around Sans’s shoulders. “Thanks.”

         “Y’know at this rate, it’s probably gonna be difficult for you ta walk around by yerself,” Sans pointed out, helping him up the stairs.

         Red shrugged as best he could, considering. “Eh, whatever.”

         Sans shook his head, smiling, and lead him to Edge’s room.

         “I got it from ‘ere,” Red grunted, leaning against the wall next to his brother’s door.

         “You sure?”

         “I think so. I’ll give ya a shout if I need some help.”

         Sans nodded and disappeared.

         Red knocked on his brother’s door.

         It was a second before Red knocked again.

         “GO AWAY.”

         “Bro, I need ta talk to ya.”

         There was a squeak, probably from Edge’s old ass bed, and Edge whipped the door open, a deep red blush covering his face.

         “WHAT DO YOU NEED THAT IS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU FEEL IT IS NECESSARY TO BOTHER ME RIGHT NOW.”

         Red peered past Edge, seeing Papyrus on the bed as well, his face also covered in a deep orange blush.

         Red grinned, connecting the dots. He coughed, reminding himself to get back on topic. “Right, I came to apologize for how I acted earlier. I’m sorry for blowing up over something stupid. I hope you’ll forgive me?”

         Edge looked at him critically. “YOU’RE LUCKY YOU CAUGHT ME IN A GOOD MOOD. I SUPPOSE I COULD LET YOU OFF WITH A WARNING.”

         Red gave Edge a quick hug, not at all surprised that all he needed was to say sorry in order to be forgiven, then looked back at him. “Oh, one more thing, then I can let you get back to… whatever it was you were doing.”

         Edge nodded. “I’LL ALLOW IT.”

         Red took a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs, “SANS!”

         Sans appeared beside him immediately. “Yeah, what is it?”

         “Oh hi. Uh okay.” Red turned back to Edge and asked, “Which one of you made the first move?” Red nodded to Papyrus in Edge’s room.

         Sans raised his browbones, an amused grin splitting his face.

         Edge’s face turned a bright red again and he just slammed the door in their faces.

         “Wait, no, Bro, this is important to us! We _need_ to _know!”_ Red called, holding in a laugh.

         “Yeah, this is necessary information!” Sans snickered.

         There was a sigh from the other side of the door and it opened up again, revealing an annoyed Edge. “SURE, I’LL TELL YOU, IF YOU TELL ME.”

         Red chuckled. “I’ve got no problem with that.”

         Edge rolled his eyes and said, slightly embarrassed. “PAPYRUS DID.”

         Red grinned wider, turning to Sans. “Aha! I knew it!”

         Sans rolled his eye lights and turned back to Edge who was waiting expectantly. “Yeah, and Red made the first move. While he was drunk, and hungover.”

         “Wait I did that when I was drunk? Well shit.”

         Sans shrugged, grinning.

         Edge slammed the door again.

         Red laughed. “Well, that went well. I believe I’m owed a prize?”

         Sans grabbed Red’s arm (thankfully his good arm—his bad one was still sore) and teleported him to Sans’s room. Red looked around. It looked almost exactly like his own room. A bed, dresser, and a closet with clothes strewn across the room at random.

         Sans sat down on the bed, and Red followed suit.

         Sans looked at Red’s calm eye lights and pulled him into a kiss. Red jumped a bit as Sans’s tongue brushed against his fangs, but he parted them eagerly, allowing entrance.

         He summoned his own tongue and pressed against Sans’s. It felt like a jolt of electricity running down his spine when their magic entwined. Red’s tongue moved on after a minute to explore Sans’s mouth and vise versa.

         After a minute, Red pulled away and pushed Sans over, further onto the bed, landing on top of him. Red kept his face above Sans’s, propping himself up by his elbows. Sans’s face was a deep blue and his eye lights seemed fuzzy around the edges. Sans seemed as breathless as Red felt.

         Red grinned and moved to Sans’s neck, trailing his tongue across it. He felt Sans shiver, and he heard him suppress a moan. It was endearing sound.

         Sans grabbed the sides of Red’s skull looking at his eye lights again, before engaging him in a hungry kiss, both their tongues summoning and entwining, sending a jolt of pleasure down his spine.

         Red shuddered as he felt Sans’s hands wander, his phalanges dragging against the fabric of his shirt. Sans slid his hand underneath the material, rubbing tiny circles into the underside of Red’s ribcage, sending little jolts of pleasure throughout him. He shivered at the gentle ministrations, and Sans rolled him over, where Red was underneath, staring at Sans.

         “Damn, yer hot.” Red said, winking.

         Sans’s blush deepened, but he grinned and continued to rub the sensitive parts of his rib cage.

         Sans dipped his head down and nipped at Red’s neck, who promptly yelped, but didn’t push him away. Instead, he leaned further into his touch.

         “So are you.” Sans whispered beside his where his ear would be.

         Red shivered again, his face turning an even brighter red.

         Sans chuckled and moved his hands to stroke at his spine, causing Red to gasp.

         He turned his head into the bed cover to muffle his moans.

         “I think I’ve come to a realization,” Red said, breathless.

         Sans paused. “Yeah? Gonna share it?”

         Red nodded and pulled Sans into another kiss. After they pulled away he said, “I think I’m in love.”

         Sans’s brows shot up, but his smile grew even wider, and even more genuine. He laughed cheerily, collapsing onto Red, hugging him. “Me too.”

         They both just laid there like that, completely content.

         Soon enough, they both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and kudos! 
> 
> If there's any questions please ask! And any typos that you see, then please feel free to point them out!


	7. Do I Know You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two new roommates!
> 
> They don't seem to get along with everyone else though...
> 
> Also, I suppose I was in the mood for angst when I wrote this, but, oh well
> 
> ANGST WARNING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here's that double update I promised hours ago
> 
> I hope this makes up for the late day, I just wasn't feeling very motivated... Thankfully it's passed by now, but I hope you guys don't find this boring or anything

         Sans awoke to the sound of muffled tapping. Although, it sounded more like a repetitive click than anything.

         He slowly opened his eyes and saw Red asleep next to him. How did— oh right. Sans grinned giddily when he remembered what had happened last night. Sometime during the night, Sans must’ve rolled over.

         But, bringing his mind back on track, if Red was asleep what was that clicking noise?

         Sans sat up, surveying the room, fully awake now.

         Nothing was different in his room. There was nothing new on the floor, there weren’t clothes missing (probably—Sans didn’t really look to see if someone stole his dirty laundry), all the furniture was in place.

         The clicking continued. Sans got up slowly and checked his closet. Nothing new in there.

         He went back to his bed.

         He hesitantly glanced at the ceiling, but there was nothing.

         Sans was stumped. Then where was it coming from?

         He froze. He pulled his legs up onto the bed.

         There was only one other place he could imagine it coming from, which would mean either someone or something was under his bed, or he was hearing things that weren’t actually there.

         He pulled Red up fully, laying him onto the bed. He was still sleeping soundly.

         Sans stretched himself over, laying down vertically on the bed, his feet hooking on the other side, hopefully keeping him from slipping over the edge.

         He took a deep breath and readied his magic.

         He was trying desperately to forget the horror movie he had seen a few days ago, but he couldn’t.

         What if it was some cannibal that snuck into their house and was ready to pounce at him and wolf him down??

         It was a few minutes before he managed to convince himself that he was just being silly, and he craned his head down slowly, peering into the darkness under his bed. He couldn’t see into it, so his lifted his head back up, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight.

         He craned his head back down and was face to face with a nightmare version of himself.

         He jumped, letting out a squeak before dropping his phone and snapping his head back up, curling into a ball.

         _What the fuck??_

Sans tried to calm himself down. His double looked like he was asleep, with his eyes closed, his head pillowed in his arms. He had seemed to be unconsciously tapping his face with one of his fingers.

         He had a large, gaping hole in his head, leading Sans to wonder how he was still alive.

         Sans glanced back at Red who was staring at him now, with two white pinpricks in his eyes. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

         Sans held a finger up to his mouth, hoping that hadn’t been enough to wake… whoever it was under his bed.

         Sans pointed to the bed. “There’s someone underneath us,” He whispered as quietly as he could.

         Red’s eyes hardened. “Who?” He whispered back.

         Sans shrugged and motioned for Red to follow him, and Sans set himself back into the same position as before. Red did the same.

         They both craned their heads over the edge and Sans snatched his phone back up and directed the light back under the bed. He was greeted with a giant red pupil staring back at him and a grinning face. “Heya.”

         Sans flinched back, almost falling off the bed, but he caught himself.

         “Get the fuck out from under the bed,” Red growled, cool as a cucumber.

         Sans was about as cool as a cucumber that had been microwaved, boiled, set on fire, and thrown into a volcano.

         He did as instructed, scooting out the other side and stood up. He was wearing a blue jacket, a white shirt with (hopefully) ketchup stains on it, and a pair of black gym shorts.

         Red stood up as well, though he seemed shaken by the crack in his skull.

         Sans looked between them, the tension palpable. He stood up as well, scooting a bit closer to Red.

         Red and mystery skeleton seemed to be having a stare-off, but Sans didn’t quite know how to tell who was winning.

         Finally, Red asked without breaking eye contact, “Who are you, and why are you here?”

         The skeleton’s grin pulled at the corners and he replied, “I’m Sans. Sans the Skeleton. I just kind of showed up here.” He shrugged.

         Red looked confused, but his gaze turned flat out hostile. “What th—”

         Sans cleared his throat, causing both skeletons to snap their head to him. “Well, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation to all this, but uh, my name is also Sans, so let’s compromise and call you—”

         “Egghead,” Red interrupted.

         The other skeleton glared at Red. Sans lightly pushed him.

         “No! Not that. Howsabout…”

         “Freakshow?”

         Sans pushed him a bit harder again. “Don’t be rude.”

         “He was literally laying under your bed for god knows how long! I think I’m justified here!”

         “Fer a couple hours at least,” the skeleton said.

         “See??”

         Sans rolled his eyes. “Horror. Let’s call you Horror.”

         The skeleton looked slightly hurt, but Sans couldn’t tell if he was faking or not.

         Red nodded. “Okay, that seems reasonable.”

         Horror looked to them expectantly.

         “I’m Red, he’s Sans,” Red introduced begrudgingly.

         Sans turned back to Horror. “Is anyone else with you?”

         Horror looked around, “Uh, yeah actually. My brother, Papyrus. Have you guys seen an eight-foot-tall monster around, by chance?”

         Red and Sans looked at each other.

         “EY, EDGE!” Red shouted at the top of his lungs, causing Sans to flinch at the sudden noise.

         There were loud footsteps outside in the hall, and the door swung open jerkily, almost falling off its hinges. “OH MY LORD, I’VE BEEN LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR YOU—… WHY IS THERE A STRANGER IN SANS’S ROOM?”

         Red shrugged, glaring at Horror. “He said he just showed up here.”

         Edge seemed equally peeved.

         “WELL, EITHER WAY, THERE IS AN EIGHT-FOOT-TALL SKELETON IN THE LIVING ROOM SHOUTING FOR HIS BROTHER, AND—” Edge was cut off as Horror shoved his way past Edge out of the doorway.

         If looks could kill, then the look both Edge and Red were giving Horror would’ve dusted him on the spot.

         “RUDE.”

         “Fuckin’ idiot.”

         No one said anything or moved for a second.

         “WE SHOULD FOLLOW HIM.”

         “To make sure he doesn’t steal anything or kill someone.”

         Sans seemed exasperated but didn’t say anything as he followed the two out of his room.

         “WHY WERE YOU IN SANS’S ROOM, BY THE WAY?” Edge asked, giving Red a knowing glance, wiggling his browbones, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

         Sans was surprised that Edge, of all people, was the one making jokes.

         Red rolled his eye lights and grinned back. “Why was Papyrus in your room?”

         Edge glared and looked back ahead.

         Red laughed.

         When they all made their way into the living room, Sans recoiled at the sight.

         Almost a perfect imitation of his brother was standing stock still in the center of the carpet. Everything seemed exactly like Papyrus, except his face and height. He had two slightly irregular eye sockets and uneven, stained teeth.

         Edge and Red kept their gazes impassive, but from Red’s posture, Sans could tell that he wasn’t expecting that either.

         Horror grinned. “Hey Bro.”

         “HELLO BROTHER! SO NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN! DO YOU KNOW WHERE WE ARE EXACTLY?” The other skeleton asked looking around.

         Sans could hear that something was off about his voice, but the more Sans looked into it, the more he figured it was just his teeth that were hindering his speech.

         Horror shrugged, eyeing Sans.

         “YOU’RE ACTUALLY IN OUR HOUSE,” Papyrus piped up from the stairwell.

         The other skeleton’s eyes lit up as he noticed everyone else.

         “OH, HELLO! I DIDN’T QUITE SEE YOU ALL THERE!” He shouted happily. Everyone else didn’t seem as cheery. Except Papyrus. He was always happy to have guests over, no matter their appearance.

         Red grumbled something under his breath, and Sans elbowed him in the ribs, whispering, “Be nice, or go to your room.”

         “Yer not my mother…” Red muttered but didn’t say anything else.

         “I APOLOGIZE FOR SHOWING UP IN YOUR HOUSE RANDOMLY WITHOUT ANY WARNING…” The skeleton said, at least having the decency to seem apologetic. “I’M—”

         “Lemme guess, yer name is Papyrus?” Red snorted.

         The skeleton in the center of the room looked happily surprised. “YES, ACTUALLY! HOW DID YOU KNOW?”

         Red rolled his eyes. “You fuckers better tell us yer actual names, ‘fore I—”

         Sans elbowed Red again.

         “What?”

         “You’re being rude.”

         “But they—!”

         “I don’t want to hear it, Red. Go on. Go. Come back out when you plan on being civilized. This is no way to treat house guests.”

         Red looked like he wanted to say something else, but he promptly disappeared.

         Sans sighed. “Sorry, about that. He’s, uh… a bit cautious around strangers.”

         The new skeleton waved it off and Horror just shrugged.

         “That’s smart,” Horror grinned.

         Edge walked up the staircase and entered Red’s room, slamming the door shut.

         “Him too.”

         Papyrus followed Edge, politely excusing himself.

         Sans looked after them dismayed that he was left alone with the nightmare versions of themselves.

         He cleared his throat. “Well, uh. I guess… You don’t mind if we call you something else, do you? I mean, we already have a Papyrus here…” Sans trailed off, losing his _edge_ (haha).

         The other Papyrus shook his head. “NO, I DON’T MIND AT ALL.”

         Sans smiled gratefully. “Oh, that’s great. So, um. Hm… Is…” Sans tried to think of a good name, but his mind kept thinking about his teeth and eyes. “Could ya glow yer eyes?”

         The skeleton did as he asked, and an almost tangerine glow appeared.

         “Maybe Mango is okay?” Sans didn’t really like the fact that he would be nick-named after a fruit, but at least it was better than Snaggletooth or Jaws.

         “WELL, THAT SOUNDS NICE. _MANGO_. IT HAS A NICE RING TO IT DON’T YOU THINK SO, BROTHER?” Mango asked Horror.

         Horror shrugged looking at Sans. “Yeah, sounds nice.”

         “So, I guess you guys don’t have a place to stay, huh?” Sans asked, ignoring Horror’s bright red eye light that seemed to be staring into his soul.

         Mango looked surprised again, and he looked around. “I GUESS NOT.”

         Sans mentally sighed. Of course.

         “Well, you guys could stay here if you want,” Sans offered, barely believing the words as they left his mouth.

         Mango and Horror looked surprised, and while the former seemed to smile brightly, the latter frowned suspiciously.

         Before his brother could say anything, Horror asked, “Why?”

         Sans shrugged. “I’m trynna set a good example fer everyone else. Also, who would I be ta turn you two away, especially since life can be hard for skeleton monsters in the city, and you two look like you’ve had it rough enough already.”

         Horror’s face hardened, but Mango looked grateful.

         “THANK YOU, FOR OFFERING US A PLACE TO STAY! OF COURSE, MY BROTHER AND I MUST CONFER WITH EACH OTHER.”

         Sans nodded. “I’ll be upstairs in the room everyone else went in if you need me.”

         Sans teleported up to Red’s room, not even waiting for an answer.

         He was speechless at the sight in front of him. Sans wasn’t even sure how to react.

         Red was laying on his bed, struggling against Edge and Papyrus, who were restraining him by the arms and legs.

         Red looked enraged, and he had one giant dark red iris in his left socket.

         “Can’t we just talk about like civil people?!” Red shouted.

         “ _CAN_ _YOU_?” Edge fired back, tightening his grip. Edge had a small crack running down his cheekbone and a bite mark on his ulna.

         Papyrus seemed fine, albeit a bit shaken.

         Red’s face lit up as he noticed Sans. “Oh, thank god, someone sensible! Can you please ask them to let go of me?” he pleaded.

         Sans hesitantly approached the bed. “Why are they restraining you?”

         Edge answered, cutting off whatever Red was going to say. “THIS LITTLE FUCKER BIT ME AND HIT ME IN THE FACE! COMPLETELY UNPROVOKED! AND HE _LAUGHED_!”

         Red growled. “I told you my name! _Please_ use it!”

         “I’M NOT CALLING YOU ‘ALBERT FICH’!”

         “Why not??”

         “BECAUSE IT’S STUPID!”

         “Maybe _this_ is why I bit you! Because you’re rude as fuck! Not to mention _completely_ uncivil!”

         “Woah, woah, woah. Albert Fich as in _the_ Albert Fich?” Sans asked.

         Edge growled.

         Sans looked at them critically. “Let him go.”

         They all looked at him in disbelief, until Albert grinned, looking thankful. “Thank you, Sans.”

         “WHAT ARE YOU, CRAZY?” Edge asked, incredulous.

         Papyrus seemed equally surprised, but when he saw Sans’s expression, he slowly let go.

         Edge looked between the two brothers angrily.

         “UGH! ALRIGHT FINE!” Edge said finally, letting go of Albert.

         “Thank you, Brother.”

         “I’M NOT YOUR BROTHER,” Edge growled.

         “But I’m part of your brother, so technically—”

         “SHUT UP.”

         Albert shrugged and turned to Sans. “So, so sorry about that. I’d have preferred to meet on better terms.”

         Sans shrugs, eyeing him. “It’s cool. So, uh, tell me about yerself… Albert you said?” Sans was hoping that he wasn’t actually anything like Albert Fich, the human serial killer and… ugh Sans couldn’t even think about what else he did.

         He nodded. “Well, I may or may not be a sadist. But, it’s not really my fault,” Albert said, holding up his hands at the look Sans shot him. “It’s really Gaster’s fault.”

         Edge and Papyrus blinked in confusion, and Sans stiffened. “I dunno what yer tryin here, Pal, but Gaster wasn’t a sadist—”

         “Mine was. But, I don’t really see the problem here. Don’t we all want to hear that one person’s screams? Don’t we want to see their blood drain? Hear their bones break? Don’t we want to make the person who caused our suffering, to suffer too?” Albert asked, his iris flashing.

         Sans opened his mouth to reply, but closed it, unsure of how to reply.

         Of course, Sans has felt that way. Everyone he knew has felt that way. Well… Everyone except—

         “I HAVEN’T. I’VE ALWAYS WANTED PEOPLE TO FARE BETTER THAN MYSELF, DESPITE WHAT THEY’VE DONE TO ME,” Papyrus said, finally stepping up. “IF THEY’RE SHOWN KINDNESS, THEN MAYBE THEY’D SEE THE ERROR OF THEIR WAYS AND APOLOGIZE!”

         Albert tipped his head, narrowing his eyes. “Oh? Well that’s interesting… Let me just tell you, that it is so very liberating to hear them beg for your mercy, and to hear their meaningless apologies.”

         Papyrus sighed, walking forward. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE WORLD AS DONE TO YOU, TO MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE THAT, BUT I ASSURE YOU, THAT THERE ARE OTHER WAYS TO—… TO HURT PEOPLE, IF THAT IS WHAT YOU WISH.” Papyrus shuddered at the words leaving his mouth. Sans gawked, and Edge raised a browbone.

         “How so?” Albert asked, gazing at Papyrus almost looking… amused.

         “YOU COULD KILL THEM WITH KINDNESS. IF SOMEONE’S MEAN OR RUDE TO YOU, THEN DON’T GIVE THEM A RISE, BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT THEY WANT. JUST BE POLITE BACK TO THEM, AND I GUARENTEE THAT THEIR REACTION WOULD BE EQUIVELANT TO THE… TO THEIR SCREAMS AND BEGS.” Papyrus looked unnerved as he looked at Albert’s unwavering stare.

         “You’re trying to tell me… that there are other ways to make the people you hate, suffer?” He checked slowly.

         Papyrus nodded eagerly. “YES! IF YOU JUST IGNORE THE PEOPLE SAYING MEAN THINGS TO YOU, THEN THEY’LL EVENTUALLY JUST GO AWAY!”

         Albert looked amused again. “What if they aren’t just saying mean things?” Papyrus looked confused, so he elaborated, a bit exasperated. “As in, what if they’re hurting you?”

         Sans finally spoke up. “That’s different. That’s self-defense. If they’re being rude and push you, you can push back. You just can’t throw the first punch, because that’s _wrong_ , and you’d be no better than them.”

         For the first time during this entire encounter, Sans saw a look of uncertainty creep onto Albert’s face.

         “Wait but—… Hm… But they can’t actually be _expecting_ me to give any other reaction—… They were bringing it upon themselves—”

         “Don’t give them what they’re expecting. Give them something they wouldn’t even imagine you doing. They’ll more than likely avoid you after that,” Edge said from the corner of the room. He had been healing his injuries, not saying anything in the conversation, because Albert would call him a hypocrite.

         Albert shook his head, taking a step back, letting out a nervous laugh. “What—? No— No you guys are just saying that, so I’ll stop because _you_ think _I’m_ wrong. But I _know_ I’m not! I know it! It’s not wrong, it’s not bad, because everyone else does it! They want to do what I do, they just don’t have the guts! I know that’s it!”

         Sans saw a perfect opportunity for a joke, but he let it go.

         “If you know it, then why do you look so unsure?” Papyrus asked gently, walking closer to Albert, who almost tripped over himself, trying to get away.

         Albert kept shaking his head, muttering ‘no’ over and over, and he kept backing up until he hit the bed and he stopped.

         Papyrus kept approaching slowly, but he didn’t look threatening, accusing, or cautious in the slightest. He looked like he was approaching an old friend in slow motion.

         “It’s okay. It’s alright,” Papyrus said, giving a warm, kind smile.

         Albert didn’t reply, he just continued looking at Papyrus, breathing heavily.

         Papyrus finally reached Albert, and opened his arms out, kneeling.

         Albert hesitated, looking at Papyrus. Sans readied his magic, though he knew he could never use it on him, even if it wasn’t quite the same Red he knew.

         Edge seemed to do the same, facing a similar dilemma as Sans.

         But they thankfully didn’t have to choose between brother or lover, because Albert rushed forward, hugging Papyrus tightly. Papyrus returned the embrace, and Sans and Edge relaxed a bit.

         There were small tears forming in Albert’s eye sockets, but he tried to hide them in Papyrus’s scarf.

         “It’s okay now. It’s all going to be okay.”

         They all just sat there for a while, until finally Albert pulled away, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

         “Thank you, Papyrus. I don’t know how you do it… I hope to learn from you one day. I’m gonna… try and… do what you said Papyrus. ‘Kill them with kindness’, you say?”

         Papyrus nodded eagerly.

         Albert turned to everyone else in the room. “Good luck with getting rid of…” Albert gestured to all of him. “all this. I guess I’ll be going now. Don’t wanna _inconvenience_ you all with your new guests and everything.” He looked at Papyrus. “Thank you, once again. I hope they stop,” he winked, causing Sans and Edge to feel very confused. Papyrus looked startled, but Albert continued. “If you need Red’s help, I’m sure either he’ll help or someone else will come along for you.” That was even more confusing, but Papyrus just looked touched and happy.

         “Cherry and uh, the other Red, with the memories and stuff, will be coming up to tell you about me. Just putting that out there. Goodbye Horror, and his brother, it was nice meeting you.” He waved at the door, and Sans whipped his head around to see both of the nightmare-fuel brothers staring at them in that spine-chilling way that only those two seemed to manage to do.

         Sans turned his head back around fast enough to see Albert close his eyes and almost fall over, but Papyrus caught him.

         “What in the world was that all about,” Horror piped up from the doorway, looking confused and slightly upset.

         “Oh, right, well, ya probably need ta know ‘bout the people you’ll be bunkin’ with ‘fore you make yer decision. Sorry, I fergot ta mention it,” Sans said apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe when he tells them Red’s disorder, then they might not want to stay. Wishful thinking. “Y’see, our pal, Red here, has DID or Dissociative Identity Disorder.”

         “So, what does that mean?” Horror asked, his face revealing nothing about how he felt.

         “Well… He’ll uh randomly just switch his persona. So, he’ll act differently from time to time, but the best way to tell if he had switched, is with his eye lights. You guys don’t really have to do anything about that, but it would be appreciated if you could tell me, Edge, or Papyrus about it, if it happens.”

         Edge narrowed his eyes at Sans. “WAIT WHAT? YOU SAID BUNKING?”

         Sans ignored him, in favor of staring back at the two in the doorway.

         “OH, WELL THIS MAY AFFECT OUR DECISION A BIT,” Mango said, his face scrunching up.

         “WHAT DECISION?” Edge asked, alarmed.

         “Edge, can I, uh, talk ta ya fer a sec?” Sans asked, walking over to the corner of the room.

         He pulled Edge down a bit, so he could whisper to him without anyone else hearing. “Edge, these skeletons don’t have a place to stay.”

         “So? They looked like they just crawled out of a horror movie!” Edge shout-whispered.

         “And you and Red looked like you’d crawled out of a depressing drama after raiding a Hot Topic! We still gave you a place to stay! And besides it’d be rude to turn them away!”

         Edge grumbled something else that Sans didn’t hear, and Sans took that as a sign the conversation was over.

         Sans walked back over to Papyrus.

         “The offer still stands, if you two still want to stay here,” Sans said, forcing a smile.

         He didn’t quite mean it, but, like he said, it would be rude to turn them away.

         And, who knows, maybe they would have charming personalities when he got to know them! They seemed nice—well, no, they seemed polite. And that was probably just because they randomly showed up in someone’s house without warning.

         Horror gave a brief nod, and Mango gave a happy smile, before they turned and walked out of Red’s doorway, probably to confer again.

         Sans brought his eyes back to Red, who was still asleep.

         Papyrus had sat him in the bed and put him under the covers.

         No one spoke for a few minutes.

         “Pap, what was Albert talking about? He hoped who would stop what?” Sans finally asked.

         “OH, IT’S NOTHING OF IMPORTANCE. JUST A MINOR THING REALLY,” Papyrus said, glancing to the side nervously.

         “THEN YOU WOULDN’T MIND TELLING US WHAT IT IS, NOW WOULD YOU? IF IT’S NOTHING IMPORTANT?” Edge asked, staring at the back of Papyrus’s skull with his arms folded.

         “OF COURSE NOT! UM, IT’S JUST A NEW RECIPE. IT KEEPS STARTING FIRES IN THE KITCHEN, AND HE JUST MEANT THAT HE HOPED THE FIRES STOPPED,” Papyrus said, sweating.

         “Papyrus. Whatever it is, you can tell us,” Sans said, putting his hand on Papyrus’s shoulder, seeing right through his lie.

         Papyrus didn’t look at him.

         “AND IF IT’S _SOMEONE_ , THEN WE PROMISE THAT WE’LL ONLY _TALK_ WITH THEM,” Edge added, coming up behind Papyrus.

         “It’s… um… several… someones. They, uh, well. They beat me up and call me names every time I’m caught alone in town…” Papyrus said sadly, looking at the ground. “I try to defend myself, but there’s just so many.”

         Everything paused for a moment.

         “So many what? Humans or monsters?” Sans asked, trying and failing to remain level-headed.

         “Both. A-and… Sans… I-I killed someone,” Papyrus said teary eyed, looking at his brother.

         _What?_

 _Papyrus_ , of all people, _killing_ someone?

         “I-it was an accident! I didn’t _mean_ for them to die! I just wanted to get away, but…”

         Sans pulled Papyrus into a hug, but his rambles continued.

         “He looked so shocked and… in pain! I didn’t know what to do… I… And then someone said that,” he sniffed, the tears starting to fall, “that if I told anyone, then they’d kill me and the person I told…”

         Everyone was shocked. No one else spoke for a couple minutes until Edge cleared his throat. “WELL, NEW RULE. NO ONE GOES INTO TOWN BY THEMSELVES. THEY MUST ALWAYS BE ACCOMPANIED BY THEIR BROTHER. FOR MEANS OF A HASTY RETREAT,” Edge explained, when Sans looked at him questioningly.

         “ALSO, IF WHAT PAPYRUS SAYS IS TRUE, AND THE PEOPLE AND MONSTERS ARE GOING TO TRY AND KILL US, THEN NO ONE GETS LEFT IN A ROOM, ALONE. AND I REPEAT, _NO_ _ONE_. THERE MUST BE AT LEAST ONE OTHER PERSON WITH YOU IN THE ROOM AT ALL TIMES. THE DOORS AND WINDOWS ARE TO STAY LOCKED, AND UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD BE UNLOCKED.”

         Wow, Edge was really buckling down.

         Looks like he took this whole “someone’s trying to kill us” situation very seriously. At least he was there, remaining level-headed, when Sans wanted to blow down the nearest wall and search for the bastards that hurt his brother.

         Edge was being reasonable, and Sans had to remind himself to thank him for that later.

         “Wow, Edge, you’re pretty good at this,” Sans said, genuinely surprised.

         “I’VE HAD PRACTICE, FROM MY IDIOT BROTHER STARTING FIGHTS.”

         “In his defense, he was drunk,” a voice spoke up from the bed.

         “CHERRY!” Papyrus exclaimed happily, wiping his tears away, his mood instantly brightening.

         “Papyrus!” Cherry exclaimed, equally happy. “Oh and, Edge, I didn’t hear you mention anything about when everyone needs to sleep. Did you forget that important tidbit of information?”

         “WHAT? OF COURSE NOT! IT’S JUST SO VERY SIMPLE THAT I DIDN’T THINK TO MENTION IT!” Edge said, looking to the side.

         Everyone waited.

         “Well, are you going to tell us what it is?” Cherry teased, pink eye lights shining.

         Sans relaxed, taking Cherry as a welcome distraction from all the drama that seemed to be constantly plaguing his life. It was exhausting, loving someone with a dangerous mental disorder, and having his brother get beat up in an alley.

         “NIGHT-SHIFTS! SOME PEOPLE NEED TO STAND GUARD WHILE THE OTHERS ARE ASLEEP, AND WE SWITCH OFF, SO PEOPLE STILL GET REST.”

         Cherry nodded, smiling. “Yep! Oh, and uh sorry for not telling you about Albert, but he kind of just appeared without warning. I hope he didn’t cause too much trouble?” Cherry asked, looking regretful.

         “HE BIT ME AND HIT ME IN THE FACE, BUT OTHER THAN THAT, HE WAS MOSTLY FINE,” Edge said sourly.

         “Oh, okay. No broken bones? No one was killed?”

         “Nope,” Sans said, then asked, slightly perturbed, “Is that what usually happens when he shows up?”

         “Someone usually ends up dying, yes. Red’s LV has raised thanks to both him and Fell.”

         “Wow.”

         “Yeah.”

         Papyrus and Edge remained silent.

         “SO, IS THAT IS ALL, CHERRY?” Edge asked, tapping his foot.

         “Well, there’s someone else building up, but they shouldn’t be coming for at least another week or so, but uh, you never know. Oh, and Papyrus?”

         Papyrus looked up. “YES?”

         Cherry climbed off the bed, giving him a hug. “I’m dreadfully sorry that you’ve had to suffer through that. If you ever need to talk, then please, feel free to come to me, I’d be more than happy to help you sort things out.”

         Papyrus returned the hug, squeezing the life out of Cherry. He didn’t complain though.

         Eventually, Papyrus let go and Cherry pulled away.

         “Before you ask, yes, all the personalities know about that. Don’t ask how, one of us is just super observant, and shared the information with everyone else.”

         Sans looked at Cherry. “Really?”

         Cherry nodded. “Yep. Uh, the Sans in here,” Cherry tapped the side of his head, “will probably be coming up soon to tell you about everyone. He feels really bad, but he won’t apologize, he’ll just stutter more.”

         “GOOD.” Edge said, causing Sans and Papyrus to turn to face him.

         Cherry sat down against the bed, closing his eyes.

         “Why is that good?” Sans asked sharply.

         “BECAUSE, HE SHOULD FEEL BAD, BUT HE SHOULDN’T APOLOGISE,” Edge said matter-of-factly.

         Everyone stared at him.

         “HIS APOLOGIES ARE A BIT OVERWHELMING, AND HE TRIES TO FIX HIS MISTAKE, WHILE TRYING TO DO ANYTHING ELSE YOU ASK. ALL AT ONCE,” Edge explained.

         “Oh.”

         “OH.”

         “EXACTLY. BUT, SANS, YOU LOOKED LIKE YOU THOUGHT THAT I WAS REVERTING BACK TO MY OLD WAYS. YOUR LACK OF FAITH IS RATHER HURTFUL TO ME. I PROMISE THAT I’VE CHANGED. IT’S JUST VERY DIFFICULT. SO, CALM YOUR ASS DOWN.”

         Sans looked Edge up and down. “Okay.”

         Sans heard a groan from behind him. He turned back around and saw Red looking at him with two cherry red eye lights.

         “Why does my head hurt?” Red asked, falling onto his side.

         Sans shrugged. “Red has a hang-over.”

         He nodded, wincing, but he sat up. “Yeah, o-okay. Uh. S-so. S-sorry f-for uh n-not telling y-you about everyone s-sooner.”

         Edge waved him off, and Red looked confused for a second before his expression turned back to apologetic.

         “I-I’ve d-decided th-that I-I’ll just t-tell you about all of the p-personalities now, b-before something l-like th-that happens again! I-is this a g-good time, o-or do y-you want me to come b-back later? Be-because anytime is r-really o-okay w-with me—”

         “IF YOU COULD COME BACK AT, SAY, TEN O’CLOCK, THAT WOULD BE MAGNIFICENT,” Edge interrupted.

         “O-okay, I’ll c-come b-back at ten!” Red nodded his head vigorously, and he was about to close his eyes, leaning against the bed, but he stopped, hesitating.

         “Um… Papyrus.” Papyrus and Edge both looked at him. “O-oh, just uh, this one,” Red pointed to Papyrus and Edge nodded, looking straight ahead, and Red flinched. “W-well, um I h-heard about wh-what h-happened… A-and, I j-just w-wanted t-to say, that i-if you ever need to t-talk th-then, j-just ask, and I-I’ll listen.”

         Red offered a weak smile and took a deep breath. He reached out, and gave Papyrus a quick pat on the shoulder, before whipping his hand back, clutching it to his chest.

         “I-I’m g-going t-t-to g-go n-now,” Red stammered, looking like he wanted to die. “S-see you a-at t-ten.”

         With a blink of his eyes, he was gone.

         “WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?” Papyrus asked, utterly confused at why Red seemed so panicked when he’d just pat him on the shoulder.

         Edge winced, “That personality has haphephobia.”

         Sans looked sad. “Which is the fear of being touched or touching.”

         Papyrus knit his brows together. “Oh. Then why—”

         “He wanted to comfort you.” Edge said, answering Papyrus’s question before he finished asking it.

         Papyrus looked touched, but also kind of sad. “Why does he have that fear?”

         Edge looked to Sans, who nodded stiffly.

         “He was raped, and actively beat.”

         Papyrus brought his hands to his mouth. “WHAT??”

         Edge looked down. “Yeah.”

         Papyrus looked at Red, then back to his own hands. Then back to Red. “Who would ever want to hurt him? He’s so nice! Well… I mean, he’s nice to me. Is he rude to everyone else?”

         Sans shook his head. “No, Red’s a really nice guy. It was just… different… back where Red came from.”

         Papyrus didn’t press the issue, just staring at Red.

         Red fell forward, gasping, his eye lights turning a plethora of different shades of red, reminding Sans of that one night when the same thing had happened.

         But instead of going out completely, his eye lights faded back to a crisp white.

         He groaned, holding his head in his hand, using the other to support him. “Ughhh, hey guys. Did I start drinking again er somethin’, cuz this is killin’ me.”

         Papyrus gave Red a hug, startling him, but Red gave him an awkward back pat. “Uh, hey Papyrus. Did I miss somethin’?”

         Sans and Edge both shared a look, then they stared back at Red.

“Nope. Papyrus just wanted a hug,” Edge said, lowering his voice for Red’s sake.

         Red shrugged as best he could with Papyrus still hugging him tight, refusing to let go.

         “Okay, cool. But, uh, why’re y’all in my room?”

         Sans and Edge shrugged. Papyrus didn’t. He was still busy with hugging Red.

         “Oh, uh Red,” Edge said, staring intently at him, making Red a bit nervous. “Does the word… ‘Lockdown’ mean anything to you?”

         Red flinched back, suddenly hearing voices, loud and harsh, telling him, “IT’S _YOUR_ FAULT THAT WE’RE ON LOCKDOWN! IT’S _YOUR_ FAULT THE WINDOWS ARE BOARDED UP AND THE DOORS ARE LOCKED! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOUR _COMPLAINTS_!” He heard, “IT’S _YOUR_ FAULT I DON’T GET ANY SLEEP FOR DAYS ON END! DON’T YOU _DARE_ ASKE ME FOR ANYTHING ELSE!”

         Red tried to relax, asking, “So what if it does?”

         Edge sighed, sitting down on a chair. “We’re on lockdown now. Code yellow? Do you know anything about a color code system?”

         Red nodded.

         He could hear, with varying levels of alarm in that harsh voice, “CODE GREEN, YOU’RE _FINE_ , GET OFF THE FLOOR, YOU WIMP,” and “CODE YELLOW! GET ON THE _GROUND_ YOU IDIOT!” and finally, “CODE RED! GET IN THE _FUCKING_ _KITCHEN_ , DUMBASS!”

         “So, it’s not too bad? But bad enough to uh “get on the ground”?” Red quoted.

         Edge looked surprised, then a bit sheepish. “Uh, yeah. Except, I guess for this kind of yellow, you just have to avoid windows and try not to be seen through any. Also, you must be accompanied by someone else at all times. And no one is allowed out of the house without their brother.”

         “Well, I hope you don’t wanna go anywhere Bro, cuz I’m kinda grounded.”

         Edge shrugged. “Eh, I probably won’t want to.”

         Red nodded, and everyone grew silent for a few minutes.

         Red turned to Papyrus. “Can you please let go of me?”

         Papyrus let go immediately, realizing how long he’d been hugging Red. “SORRY!”

         Red shrugged. “Nah, it’s cool. My neck’s jus’ startin’ to hurt,” he rolled his head from side-to-side.

         There was a knock at the door, and Horror and Mango appeared at the doorway.

         Horror glanced at Red, and asked, with a raised browbone, “Is he—”

         Sans cut him off. “He’s fine.”

         Horror held up his hands, backing off the subject.

         Mango cleared his throat. “WELL, ANYHOW, WE’VE COME TO A DECISION, AND—IF IT’S NOT TOO MUCH HASSLE—THEN WE’D LIKE TO ASK IF WE COULD STAY WITH YOU. WE COULD DO CHORES, I CAN COOK, IF YOU WANT—”

         “YOU CAN COOK??” Papyrus asked, his eyes lighting up.

         “YES, I CAN INDEED!”

         “SO CAN I!”

         Mango’s eyes lit up. “MAYBE WE COULD COOK TOGETHER SOMETIME!”

         Papyrus seemed to love the idea.

         Sans cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose that there are a few other things to get out of the way ‘fore we can make it official.” Sans teleported behind the brothers in the doorway. “Follow me.”

         They did as instructed, and Sans led them to his room.

         When the door was closed, Sans turned to them, deciding to cut straight to the important parts, not wanting to stay in their company any longer than necessary. “Okay. So, just a few minor things, about the people yer gonna be livin’ with. Edge—you know, the tall spikey skeleton? —he’s easily offended and will probably start fights. That’s unavoidable, so the rule is no fightin’ in the house, and no killin’ anyone.” Sans waited, and Mango nodded his consent, and Horror shrugged. “Also, uh, Red might be the same way sometimes, so… Yeah. And, please don’t mention his DID in front of him.”

         Horror looked confused. “Why?”

         “Well, last time he was made aware of it, he kind of had a panic attack, switched personas, and woke up with no memory of the past twenty minutes.”

         “Alright then.”

         “Okay, and Papyrus, the other tall skeleton, is extremely nice, and will probably help you with anything you need. So, go to either me, or him if you have any questions.” He paused for a minute before adding, “Just one more thing. Try to avoid windows and doors, they have to stay locked, and if you want to go to town, be sure to take yer brother with you. Safety concerns and all.”

         Horror narrowed his eyes at Sans, but Mango just nodded vigorously, saying, “WELL, OF COURSE! SAFETY IS IMPORTANT AFTERALL!”

         Sans chuckled at how much he reminded him of his own Papyrus.

         “That’s it. You guys can go and get to know everyone else right now, if ya want. Or just watch TV. I can set up yer rooms for ya.”

         Horror disappeared, and Mango said his thanks, before following his brother out of the room.

         Sans sighed, wondering if Blueberry and Stretch kept their old furniture around.

         He hoped that No fights had been started already, as he made his way to the basement to search for the old bedframes, and hopefully the mattresses, too.

         There was a loud crash and a bunch of angry shouting from the kitchen. Sans sighed, teleporting to the scene.

         What had he gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say this every chapter, but I mean it every chapter. Thank you all so much for your support! It really keeps me going!


	8. Master of Disguise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm gonna try and knock out a few more chapters, so I'm going to update today and tomorrow. I keep telling myself, "I'm gonna have a better updating schedule. I'm gonna actually update on Saturday. Not Sunday, not Friday, but Saturday." 
> 
> It's not working out very well.
> 
> Oh well.
> 
> This chapter is actually pretty long, by the way.
> 
> Enjoy!

         It had been about a week since Horror and Mango moved in, and it’s been said that they weren’t settling in all that well.

         Horror reacted badly when food was tossed out, and Mango was a little too energetic. At times, he would cause a few injuries (nothing too serious, thankfully), and a few lamps had been broken at his hands. None of which were intentional of course, but the damage was still there.

         When that was brought up, Papyrus would just wave it off, saying that things were different back where they came from, and that they would just need time to figure things out and get comfortable.

         Whenever Edge would ask how long, Papyrus would look at both him and Red, saying that they took over a month to get used to things.

         Then, Edge would drop the subject and move on. Out of shame, maybe?

         Either way, Red and Edge avoided the two newcomers like the plague. Mango still attempted to be friendly, and Red would answer some of his questions to avoid being rude, but Edge would usually just flat out ignore him, until Papyrus forced him to talk. Horror usually minded his own business, and mostly didn’t talk to anyone else. What he did in his past-time was questionable, but no one ever asked.

         Currently, Sans, Red, and Horror were all squished together on the couch. Sans had the armrest, while Red was as close to Sans as he could comfortably be. Horror was pressed into the other armrest, trying to stay as far away from the two as possible. There was about a foot in between them.

         Papyrus, Edge, and Mango were in the kitchen, cooking, so the other three were watching that show from earlier back, called Psych. It was pretty good, even if nearly all the episodes had to do with murder.

         Sans wasn’t really watching, though.

         He was eyeing Red and Horror out of the corner of his eye. It was exhausting, how much they fought.

         But, oddly enough, there were no outbursts from Red about stupid, menial things. He kept quiet mostly. He’s been keeping quiet for a week now. It was worrying, but Red assured Sans it was fine.

         There were also no changes in persona either, not even at ten, when the other Red was supposed to tell them about his personalities. Sans and Edge had waited for hours on the couch with Red, but nothing came up.

         Edge seemed upset, but Sans was just worried.

         This past week, Red had been acting like a blank slate. He was unresponsive sometimes, and it usually took a minute before he could form a response to a question that was about him, if he even answered at all.

         Another thing off about Red, was that when he thought no one was looking, his white eye lights would sputter out, until someone looked at him again, and he’d force a laugh, pretending that it never happened.

         Red had been telling him not to worry about anything this past week (he had also been speaking formally, without conjunctions), but that only made Sans worry even more.

         Red was, for the most part, doing everything for anyone else around the house. Someone wanted a snack from the kitchen? Red got up and got one for them. Someone couldn’t figure out how something worked? Red was there immediately to explain it to them. At least he was doing the chores, like Sans had asked him to, but he’s probably already worked it off by now.

         Red did everything that was asked, no questions, no complaints, nothing. He did everything, until he was told not to.

         He didn’t ask why they didn’t want him to, he just stopped and stood in place for a couple seconds before he walked away to do something else useful.

         Another week passed of Red acting strangely. The bags underneath his eye sockets grew. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all these past two weeks…

         No one said anything about it, until finally Edge had enough.

         “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU, RED?” Edge demanded. They were both in his room after Edge had told his brother he needed to speak with him.

         Red glanced away, his eye lights flickering out for a second. “Nothing’s wrong with me Bo—Edge.” Red winced at his slip up, and Edge gawked.

         “What were you going to say?” Edge asked weakly. He cleared his throat and waited for an answer that took a few minutes.

         “Edge, of course. What else would I say?” Red lied.

         Edge shook his head, baffled. “WHAT— NO. TELL ME. TRUTHFULLY.”

         Red glanced to the side again, his eye lights dimming gradually until they were completely gone. “Okay. I was going to call you ‘Boss’.”

         “HOW DID YOU—”

         “It’s because my name’s Sylvester.”

         Edge paled. “OH. BUT WHEN DID YOU—HOLY SHIT. YOU’VE—YOU’VE BEEN PRETENDING TO BE RED FOR OVER TWO WEEKS, HAVEN’T YOU?”

         He nodded, and Edge sighed, shaking his head.

         “GOD DAMMIT. SANS!” Edge shouted.

         “Wait no—” Sylvester pleaded, before Sans appeared, cutting him off.

         “’Sup?” Sans asked casually, eyeing Sylvester.

         Sylvester hung his head, and Edge turned to Sans, lowering his voice to a more tolerable volume. “Sans, this is Sylvester. You’ve been hanging out with _him_ for the past few weeks, not Red.”

         Sans raised a brow bone. “Really now?”

         “Sorry,” Sylvester said, but he didn’t show any emotion in his face or voice.

         “It’s cool. I just wanna know. Why are ya here? What’s yer purpose exactly?”

         “It’s not ‘cool’. You don’t think that either. You’re just saying that in hopes that I won’t keep apologizing and I’ll tell you what you want.” Sans stiffened at Sylvester’s observation. “Don’t object, because we both know I’m right.”

         Edge frowned. “Oh, so this is the observant personality Cherry talked about.”

         Sylvester nodded. “That’s me. But that isn’t all I’m for, and since you asked, then I’ll answer your questions, Sans. I’m here because Red feels like he’s bothering everyone too much, and that he should stop plaguing everyone’s life with his drama. He didn’t know how to stop that though, so I’m here. Though, I don’t think I’ve done a good job on keeping his drama out of yours, have I?” No one said anything. “I thought as much. Well, I’m the… secretive part, I guess? I keep all of Red’s emotions in check. I’m pretty much what you’ve always wanted me to be, Boss.”

         Sans whipped his head to Edge, who looked shocked.

         “Explain,” Sans hissed at Edge, who looked back at Sans.

         “I only… punished Red because I’d hope that he’d toughen up. That he wouldn’t be so vulnerable to his enemies. That he wouldn’t show any emotion outside of home. That he’d eventually become as feared as me, so then no one else would mess with him…”

         Sylvester’s face didn’t change once. Not even when he corrected his brother, saying, “They weren’t, per say, _punishments_. They were more of… beatings. At the time I’d thought you hated me. But, no ill will now, of course. After all, this is how I turned out. I think you did a fairly good job.”

         Edge looked like he wanted to be sick. “No. No I didn’t.”

         “You seem like you’re _horrified_ that this is how I turned out. Isn’t this what you _wanted_?”

         Sans walked over to Sylvester and gestured for him to have a seat. Sylvester and Edge sat on the floor, while Sans sat on the chair.

         Sans asked, “So, you’re the embodiment of Red’s suppressed feelings and possibly crushed dreams?”

         “I suppose you could say that, yes.”

         Edge looked exasperated, but kept his mouth shut.

         “Maybe not the last part, though,” Sylvester backtracked.

         “What do you want, Sylvester?” Sans asked, staring at him.

         “I beg your pardon?” Sylvester asked, blinking.

         “Out of life. What do you want out of life?”

         He blinked, then a ghost of a smile appeared on his face, but as soon as it appeared it was gone. “You think you may be onto something. Well, what does it matter, if you don’t mind me asking?”

         Sans gave a sad smile. “You want things out of life for yourself, but you don’t ask for it, because…?”

         “You want me to finish your sentence,” Sylvester stated blankly. “I don’t ask for it because I view myself a step below the others I’m surrounded by, and the higher up on the ladder you are, the more important your demands. Which is why I don’t believe my wants or needs matter.”

         Edge looked stricken, then he went back to looking sick to his non-existent stomach.

         Sans didn’t let any emotion show on his face, trying to look as stone-cold and dead as Sylvester.

         “It’s okay to ask for yourself from time-to-time,” Sans said, looking at Edge for his support, and Sylvester followed his gaze, but Edge still didn’t say anything.

         “Is that so? What’s your opinion on that,  B r o t h e r?”

         Edge stiffened, then abruptly stood up and strode out of the room, slamming the door.

         Sans looked between the door and Sylvester. “Are there some family issues I hear?”

         “Possibly. I think it’s just something Boss needs to figure out himself. I _am_ only doing as he’s demanded so many times in the past.”

         Sans shook his head, sighing. “You do understand, that things are different here, right? There isn’t any hierarchy here for you to follow. You matter, too.”

         “Not as much as everyone else. And, I do believe,” he continued, even as Sans opened his mouth to object. “that you’re wrong. Given the choice between saving either a murderer or an innocent man, who would you choose?”

         Sans didn’t reply.

         “Exactly as I thought. I’m sorry, but it’s just how things work. Even here.”

         “What if the murderer was in love, and had repented? What if he had been trying for years to make up for it, to fix it, and the other innocent man was only that. Just a blank slate, living through the motions? Just another nothing in society. What if he had missed his chance to live and he wallowed in self-pity for the rest of his life that goes nowhere?”

         Sylvester blinked, and shifted a bit in his chair. His face didn’t change. “That’s a lot of ‘what if’s my biased friend.”

         “But you know it’s probably true. An innocent man doesn’t have nearly as many colors as a repented murderer. Which is what you are.”

         Sylvester scoffed. “That’s what Red is. Not me.”

         “You know what I meant.”

         Sylvester didn’t say anything or even move for the longest time, and Sans began to wonder if he had fallen asleep, until Sylvester spoke up.

         “Have you ever killed someone?”

         Sans was caught off guard by the question, and he blinked. “Uh well… Yes. I have.”

         “So, you aren’t an innocent man.”

         “Never said I was.”

         “Do you regret killing them?”

         “No.”

         Sylvester nodded. “Did they fight back?”

         “Yes. It was a fair fight.”

         He nodded again. “Was it justified?”

         Sans didn’t even have to think before he answered, “Yes.”

         Sylvester nodded. “You are higher up on the scale. You come first.”

         Sans made a face. “Did you even listen to what I said earlier?”

         Sylvester nodded. “Of course. I can still ask for a few small things here and there, because, even if I’m lower, I’m still on the scale. But, you come before I do. Because, Red had killed many people who were resistant, begged for mercy, and he was not justified. He doesn’t regret it either. Therefore, I am lower, you are higher.”

         Sans didn’t speak.

         He didn’t know what to say.

         He didn’t know how to argue back. Usually most of the personalities arguments were based on flimsy logic and Sans could easily de-bunk them, but this was different.

         “Now, since you come before me on the scale, I look to the other members of the house. Papyrus—very top. I could never ask anything of him, he’s practically equivalent to the king. Because of the obvious reasons. Edge is my superior, but not because he’s any better—in fact he’s worse. He’s higher than me because he’s stronger. But he’s lower than you, because he’s still killed more, and you could beat him in a fight. And I don’t even know the horror brothers so—”

         “Shut up.”

         Sylvester was quiet, staring at Sans with those dark, empty eye sockets, that no light could ever penetrate.

         “What scale are you using?”

         “Uh. Well, is the ‘Scale of Common Sense’ a thing?”

         “Common sense?” Sans asked, raising a brow bone.

         “You said you’ve killed someone.” Sans nodded. “Would you do it again?”

         “With a proper incentive.”

         “Such as…?” He prompted.

         “Well, as an example, the bastards who beat my brother. I’d kill them in a heart-beat.”

         Sylvester nodded. “So, not senseless killing. That puts you higher on the list than me and Edge. Common sense puts Edge above me, because even if I was better than him, morally, I could not enforce my rules without expending over three-fourths of my energy, yet he can enforce his rules without breaking a sweat.”

         “And what would someone higher up on the scale demand you to do exactly?”

         Sylvester shrugged. “Whatever they damn well please. The people beneath them are practically their servants. You could order them to get you food, water, to kill… Just so long as they know barely anything about you of course. They could use something against you.”

         “That’s not how it works here.”

         “Isn’t it though? Think of the government. They make laws. They expect people to follow them because the government is higher on the spectrum, and they hold more power over you. Then, they hire people to enforce the rules, who also hold more power over you, but not the government. If you don’t follow the laws, then you’ll be either imprisoned or shot.”

         Sans got the annoying feeling that he was starting to lose the argument.

         “Okay, yes, you have to do as they say. But, you described slavery. Slavery is illegal. We have a right to protest and speak up against something we think isn’t fair or just. You have a right to your own opinion. Besides, the laws are there for your safety, right? And, around the house, you don’t have to do everything, you know. Others can do it for you. It doesn’t hurt to be lazy.”

         Sylvester still looked unconvinced but didn’t say anything else.

         “And you can be open with yer feelins. It’s not bad here—ya won’t butcher yerself.”

         “It’s relatively hard to unlearn bad habits.”

         “But not impossible.”

         They both sat in silence, and Sans felt satisfaction as he slowly realized he’d won the argument.

         Sylvester sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Despite the gesture his permanent smile only twitched to show he was uncomfortable. “Well, I guess you won that one, huh?”

         Sans chuckled, relieved that Sylvester wasn’t a sore loser like some of the other personas. And it especially helped that he didn’t have a mild panic attack. “So it would seem.”

         Sylvester gave an attempt at a genuine smile, but it lacked the upward curve. Then Sans had to wonder when the last time Sylvester tried to actually smile was. “Well… l guess I should leave then. It’s been a real nice couple of weeks. You guys are lots of fun to hang out with. I hope you feel the same?”

         Sans stiffly smiled.

         “You don’t. It’s alright, I don’t mind,” Sylvester said, still weakly smiling as Sans opened his mouth to object again. “It’s… uh as you say, ‘it’s cool’. At least _I_ enjoyed it. Oh, uh, sorry for cutting in by the way. I know you were waiting for Sans,” he tapped the side of his head. “I kind of held him up. He should be coming at exactly ten tonight. Could you… um… Could you tell Edge I’m sorry?” he asked quietly.

         Sans nodded. “Course.”

         Sylvester stared at Sans for a moment before an unsteady but genuine smile crossed his face. “You mean it. Thanks.”

         Sylvester closed his eyes and was gone. Sans checked his phone for the time. It was 8:42.

         Sans texted Edge, telling him to come back into his room.

         There were loud footsteps, and Edge burst through the door. “WHAT DO YOU NEED?”

         Sans looked at him. “Sylvester wanted to apologize. He said he’s sorry. I took care of ‘em though, so… Yer welcome.”

         Edge at least had the gall to look sheepish. “Ah, sorry, it’s just… I’ve grown so accustomed to my brother emoting more often, and…”

         Sans waved him off. “It’s fine, I just need some help carrying him back to his room.”

         Sans was tired, so he didn’t want to risk slipping up with his magic if he tried to teleport with Red, or if he just tried to lift him with his magic and carry him down the hall.

         Edge nodded, picking up Red, and gently tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He carried him down the hall to Red’s room, Sans trailing behind, and Edge kicked open the door. Even though he had a free hand…

         Red was laid gently down on his bed after Edge took off his slippers that Red wore around the house.

         “Can you believe,” Sans whispered, staring at Red sleeping peacefully under his covers. “that we didn’t realize that Sylvester was pretending to be Red? For two weeks?”

         Edge sighed. “No. I can’t.”

         Edge sat against the bed frame, and Sans sat on the bed.

         They both tried not to think about anything related to Red, but it was hard, considering the gravity of their new discovery.

         Anytime a persona doesn’t want to be known, they could just disguise their eye lights, and act slightly more like Red. That could’ve gone on for months, and no one would’ve noticed!

         “I guess we’ll just have to learn to be more observant,” Sans chuckled, remembering how attuned to detail Sylvester was.

         “That was more Red’s thing. I was the one who figured out what to do with the information. Red was always too indecisive,” Edge smiled bitterly. “I bet that was my fault.”

         Sans didn’t say anything. He just kept staring at Red. He looked like he was getting the sleep he’d needed for weeks on end. Sans guessed that if Sylvester let himself sleep, then he could lose control of the body.

         “What was your home like?” Sans asked after a while.

         “Huh? Why do you want to know about that?”

         “Well… Sylvester told me stuff, and now I’m curious. You didn’t say much when we first met.”

         Edge sighed heavily, not even bothering to look at him.

         “Okay. Well, for starters, there was a known rule throughout the underground. ‘Don’t mess with anyone stronger than you, and hope they won’t mess with you.’ I made sure that my brother and I were well-known, and feared, so we wouldn’t be messed with. It didn’t work very well,” Edge practically spat. “I worked hard to make sure Red knew not to show any emotion out in public, because everyone else would feed into that to get what they wanted. I literally tried to… to _beat_ it into him! That didn’t work very well either.”

         Edge stopped to take a deep breath, but he didn’t continue talking. Sans was alright with that. He didn’t know if he even wanted to hear if there was more.

         They sat in silence for the rest of the time it took until Red was sitting up, gasping. His eye lights flickered all different shades of red until they sputtered out, then reappeared as white.

         “Ugh… Why does my head still hurt? What time is it?” Red asked, flopping to the side, falling onto Sans’s lap.

         “It’s 9:23 PM.”

         Red blinked, squinting. “What day is it?”

         Sans looked at his phone again. “It’s Tuesday the 18th. Year 201X.”

         Red rolled his eye lights, and shifted so he was more comfortable, and he pulled out his mini-journal.

         Sans watched him flip through the pages, and he watched his eyes widen absurdly. “Uhh…”

         “What is it?” Edge asked, looking at them.

         “Oh, it’s nothing.” Red answered quickly, scribbling a few things down in his journal before tucking it back into his pocket.

         Sans narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around Red, pulling him closer.

         Red didn’t fight it.

         “I feel like I haven’t slept in days…” Red yawned, closing his eyes.

         Neither Sans nor Edge said anything.

         “You guys alright? You seem a bit…” Red tailed off giving Edge a knowing, shit-eating grin.

         “Don’t you dare.”

         “On…”

         “I’m warning you.”

         “… _Edge_ ,” Red finished, snickering.

         “GAH! I’M LEAVING!” Edge burst, jumping up and stomping out of the room.

         Sans chuckled, relaxing.

         This was the Red he knew. No doubts about it.

         Red pulled out his phone, checking the time. 9:30.

         Sans raised a browbone. “You waitin’ fer somethin’?”

         Red shrugged. “Waitin’ fer ya ta stop buttin’ into my business.” Honestly, he didn’t know what he was checking the time for, he just felt like he needed to.

         Sans chuckled and felt Red snuggle up further. “Never.”

         They were both quiet for a couple more minutes.

         Red pulled his phone back out after a while and checked the time. It was 9:47.

         “Hey, uh, Sans?” Red asked, avoiding eye contact.

         “Yea?”

         “You won’t freak out or anything if I tell you that I have no memory of the past two weeks, will you?”

         Sans blinked slowly. “Um…” He didn’t know how to answer that. Sans already knew that Red didn’t, but he didn’t want Red to know he did. Then he'd probably ask how, and Sans really didn't want to deal with that right now.

         “I swear I wasn’t hit on the head or anythin’! It’s just… I would like to know what happened those two weeks.”

         Sans shifted, a little uncomfortable.

         “Well, I guess that Horror and Mango are settling in a little better than how they did first off. Try not to throw away any food, and make sure Mango stays away from breakable things.”

         “But _I’m_ breakable.”

         Sans rolled his eyes and continued. “The lockdown is going fairly well. We already caught one monster who was hanging around one of our windows. Pap said there were at least ten.”

         “Whaddya mean? At least ten what? And why’d ya catch a monster?”

         Sans tensed.

 _Shit_.

         Well, he might as well tell him now. There’s no point in lying.

         “The reason we’re on lockdown was because Papyrus was caught in a sticky situation with about ten humans and monsters and they hurt him. They said that they’d kill anyone he told, and we aren’t taking any chances.”

         “What?” Red asked darkly. “Is the bastard we caught dead yet?”

         Sans shook his head. “No. We’re using him for information.”

         “That makes sense, but I still wanna kill him.”

         They didn’t speak for a couple seconds.

         “Edge already pretty much tortured him. We probably got as much as we could outta him.” That was half the truth. Honestly, Edge _and_ Red (or Sylvester, as Sans knows now) both tortured the living hell out of that monster. He was practically living with one foot in the grave, and he was almost ready to fall down, last Sans checked.

         “Then let’s kill that fucker.”

         “We still might need him. Don’t burn yer bridges, Red.”

         Red sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… Who would ever want to do that to Papyrus?? He’s literally just a giant goofball who would do almost _anything_ for the people he knew!”

         “I know!”

         They both seethed for a couple seconds.

         “Well, at least they’ll die eventually. Is it bad that I take comfort in that?” Red asked, not even sounding like he cared if he was good or bad.

         “No, it’s a sign that yer loyal to yer friends. That’s good.”

         Red nodded, and they both lapsed back into silence.

         Red checked his phone again. 9:59.

         He continued staring at the screen until it turned 10:00, and Red started to breath heavily.

         Sans slowly detangled himself from Red and waited patiently for his gasps to subside.

         Soon, Red cleared his throat, opening his eyes to reveal bright cherry red eye lights.

         “Welcome back,” Sans said, smiling.

         “I-I’m so s-sorry that I’m t-two w-weeks late! I-I swear, I w-was ready to show up at t-ten, b-but then Sylvester got i-in the way, and—”

         “It’s cool, calm down,” Sans interrupted.

         Red took a deep shuddery breath, coughing a little.

         “Okay. S-sorry ‘bout that.”

         Sans thought about reaching over to give him a back pat, but remembered his phobia, and dismissed the idea entirely.

         “U-um, I-I kn-know it’s s-sudden and all, b-but I-I mean, it’s t-ten… S-so… I-if you s-still want me t-to tell y-you about the p-personas, then I’d b-be m-more than happy t-to!”

         Sans nodded, and pulled out his phone, texting Edge.

         “O-oh, okay, g-good. A-and if th-there’s a-anything else you want m-me to do, j-just a-ask.”

         Sans nodded again, but he wouldn’t ever ask this Red to do anything for him. Especially if his apologies worked how Edge explained them.

         Soon enough, Edge burst into the room, once again, and Sans saw Red flinch back, his eye wide in terror. Sans noticed how Red inched closer to him as Edge made his way into the room.

         “B-B-Boss! H-Hi, uh I-I’m s-sorry that I-I’m l-late, b-but uh c-can I m-make it up to y-you?” Red asked, grimacing.

         Edge stopped a couple feet from his brother. “YOU’D MAKE IT UP TO ME PLENTY IF YOU WOULD TELL US ABOUT THOSE PERSONANLITIES.”

         Red nodded his head vigorously. “O-of course. A-actually, I-I th-think…” Red trailed off, expecting someone to cut him off, but when no one did, he continued. “I-I think that I-I should wr-write them d-down so you’d a-always h-have a reference.”

         Edge nodded, and Sans agreed.

         Red walked over to his desk, pulling out paper and a pencil.

         “U-uh, i-if I write something th-that d-doesn’t make a-any sense, th-then I’ll e-explain it to you, i-if you w-want.”

         Sans smiled, saying his thanks, while Edge just offered a short nod.

         So, he wrote.

         It didn’t look like the barely legible chicken-scratch Sans saw in Red’s mini-journal. It actually looked like normal handwriting. Of course, it took longer than it probably would’ve, if he’d just scribbled it onto the paper.

         Sans didn’t bother to read as he wrote, instead he stuck to looking around social media on his phone.

         Eventually, Red called out, “Th-there! Finally d-done.” He held up the paper for their inspection.

         Edge snatched it away, causing Red to flinch back a little.

         He scrutinized the paper, continuously looking to Red as he did so, and occasionally glancing at Sans.

         “THIS’LL DO QUITE NICELY AS A REFRENCE. GOOD JOB,” Edge praised, handing the paper over to Sans so he could read.

         Red absolutely shone under Edge’s compliment.

         “This is actually pretty neat handwriting,” Sans noted, looking at the paper.

         Red brightened even more. “Th-thanks! I-I figured you guys w-would like an e-easy to r-read guide, s-so uh, I’m g-glad you liked it!”

         The personalities that were written down were separated by numbers. There was a side note, saying that it was set up from the easiest to be rid of to the hardest. Cherry was at the very top and Fell was at the very bottom.

         There were little notes on each of the personas, describing how they act, what they do, what color their eye lights are, they best way to deal with them, things like that.

         There was also a category that said what they left behind.

         “Hey, Red, what’s with that?” Sans asked, pointing at it.

         Red walked over to him and read what he was pointing at. “O-oh, well, s-since we’re all k-kind of just e-extensions o-of his personality and mind, th-then when we leave, we m-merge back with him. S-so, um… Say, Albert, for example. H-he was keeping all o-of Red’s s-sadistic t-tendencies. Red wasn’t as sadistic b-because Albert was there. N-now that he’s g-gone, however, Red is c-crueler than b-before. N-not as bad a-as Albert was, though, b-because the w-way you g-got rid of him, w-was by convincing him th-that he was w-wrong, a-and that violence w-wasn’t the answer to everything.”

         Sans nodded his understanding, feeling a little upset.

         So, when they finally got rid of all the personalities, Red wouldn’t be the same.

         Sans hoped it wouldn’t be too big of a change.

         “Then, what will you leave behind, Red?” Edge asked, staring at him. “I couldn’t help but notice you left that spot blank for you.”

         Red flinched, looking down. “W-well, u-uh… I-I’ve t-told you. H-he’d g-get h-his memories b-back.” He started to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

         “What else will you leave?” Edge asked.

         Red started sweating. “I-I’m sorry?”

         “Apology accepted, now tell me.”

         Red sighed shakily, looking anywhere but Edge’s sharp, accusing eyes. “W-well… I-I g-guess he m-might b-be left a l-less severe c-case o-of haphephobia…”

         No one spoke for a couple minutes.

         “Wait, really?” Sans asked, not believing it.

         Red shrugged, not looking at either of them. “I-I d-don’t know.”

         “Yes, you do. What is it?” Edge asked.

         He didn’t reply. A few beads of sweat dripped down Red’s skull under Edge’s furious gaze.

         Edge took a step forward, his eyes flashing threateningly. “You better tell me, or I swear—”

         “Edge. Stop,” Sans commanded, standing more protectively in front of Red, who was shaking hard enough to rattle his bones.

         Edge growled at them, but he didn’t move any further.

         “U-um w-well, I-I gue-guess th-that uh w-well… Y-yes, I-I’ll l-leave a l-less s-severe c-case of h-haphephobia,” Red just managed to stutter out. “B-but I-I m-mean, i-it’s not _untreatable_ , i-it j-just t-takes time t-to get through i-it!”

         No one said anything. Not even when Red tipped over onto the floor. (Everyone was getting more accustomed to seeing Red pass out, so it’s not as shocking as it was the first time.) Sans caught him with his blue magic before his body hit the ground, and he put Red in his bed.

         Edge walked out of the room, slamming the door so hard, Sans swears he heard a crack.

         Sans sighed, placing his hand on Red’s head.

         Edge had said he’d changed, but… Maybe Sans was imagining it, but what he had seen flashing in his eyes…

         He shook his head, sighing again.

         This was just a lot for him to take in.

         First, he figured out the person he likes has a mental disorder that has loads of drama tied into it, then he learns that he can help him by getting rid of the personas, but the one that was supposed to be helping them through it was only partially telling them the truth. Not only that, but he learned that eventually, once he gets rid of all the personalities, then Red would have haphephobia.

         _Bullshit. This is all bullshit._

         Sans’s head snapped up as a thought came to mind.

         What if…

         What if they just left Red with one personality? The one with the memories and the fears? Red doesn’t need those. And, he’s lived with 13 other personalities for over five months, so one shouldn’t be too bad, right? And besides, that persona would only appear when Red was too stressed out or anxious, so they just needed to make sure he wasn’t either of those things.

         Sans scratched the back of his head.

         He was tired. But he wasn’t just exhausted-tired. He was just tired of all the drama surrounding Red. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to wish it were any other way. Because even with all the sore spots and tough subjects connected to Red, it was way better than some boring life with no excitement in it at all.

         Red wasn’t _just_ a sad, depressed, repented murderer. Red was another person to love, along with everyone else in the world. He had worth, potential, talent, a heart that was stained, cracked, broken, like a neglected antique. He just needs to be cared for, to be loved.

         Red was what reminded Sans that there was more than what meets the eye. No one was just what they were. Right? Maybe he was wrong.

         Sans climbed into the bed, hugging Red close. He wanted the Red he knew to stay. He didn’t want some over-protective, highly observant, arsonist who was afraid of touch.

         But then again, not everything works the way he wanted it to, huh?

         Sans fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, tomorrow is going to have the guide with the personas on it, i was just too lazy to put it in here. Unless, you didn't want me to put it in? Actually..
> 
> Okay, I'm going to post the guide, I'll put a warning in the notes before the chapter, so if you want to learn as the story goes on, I'll make that possible in the story-line, so you won't be missing anything if you just skip it.
> 
> Anywho, thank you all for your lovely kudos and comments! They really keep me going. 
> 
> Any questions, please feel free to ask!


	9. Guide to the Personas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the guide to Red's personas! 
> 
> If you don't want to read this, please just ignore this chapter.
> 
> If you do, please enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm late, but in my defense, my uncle came down to visit, so I hung out with him, since he does't come around that often.
> 
> By the way, if you don't want to read this, it's not required or anything. It's not relevant to the story line. 
> 
> If you do, then there's no reason why you shouldn't really.
> 
> Anyway, have fun.

Red's personas

 

1\. Cherry: Active

Two pink eye lights, good posture, talks with few conjunctions, and he is quieter.

Cherry is kind-hearted (despite the obvious lack of said organ), considerate, and finds it nearly impossible to say no to the people he cares about. He can, he just finds it extremely difficult to. In other words he's a fuzzy pushover.

He can sense when a personality is about to show up, which could be very useful. 

He shows up when a situation calls for kind words, or a conscious.

In order to be rid of him, you just simply have to ask.

When Cherry is gone, he would give Red more of his conscious back, and Red would become more soft-spoken and kinder. Plus, he'd be able to turn his eye lights pink as well.

 

2\. Jack: Merged back with Red

One maroon eye light, he had more of a slouch than Red, and he spoke more informally than Red.

Jack was over-protective with Sans and Red, he had the impression that he was still back in Underfell, resulting in trust issues.

He showed up when either he or someone he cared about was threatened.

To get rid of him, you had convinced him that everyone was safe, and they were no longer in constant danger.

Jack gave Red weariness and hostility towards suspicious strangers, and his will to fight.

 

3\. Sans/Red: Active

Two crimson irises, always seems to be trying to make himself smaller, and he stutters and sweats.

He is constantly nervous, anxious, jumpy, clingy, he reacts badly to criticism and he shines under praise. He is deathly afraid of his brother and touch.

He shows up whenever Red's anxiety gets too high.

In order to get rid of him, you would just have to be rude enough to make him leave, or you could politely tell him to go. Asking him would not be effective.

He would leave Red his memories, and a less severe case of haphephobia and anxiety.

 

4\. Beth: Active

Two energetic hot pink eye irises, relaxed posture (but not a slouch), and talks like a teenage girl.

More of a feminine persona, prefers to be referred to as a girl, dresses differently, does house work, cooks (very well, might I add), albeit very annoying.

She shows up when Red wants to be productive, or he feels like he wasn't pulling his own enough. 

In order to get rid of her, you could tell her she's done enough for everyone, and that she doesn't need to keep working. Or, what is probably more effective, get her to take a break.

Beth would leave her productivity with Red, along with her extensive knowledge of food.

 

5\. Evan: Active

Two dull gray eye lights, extremely bad posture, usually avoids eye contact, and he talks slowly. 

Evan holds most of Red's guilt and depression. If he shows up, then he'd more than likely stay in his bed for over an hour, even after awake. It's important to not drag him out, but rather convince him to spend time with everyone on the couch.

He shows up when red feels down or like everything is his fault for an extended period of time.

If he's convinced not everything is his fault (examples may help as well), and that things would be better in life if he just looked, then he would go.

Evan would leave a lethargic feeling, and a want to not move for at least a few hours in the morning. Red still would be able to, he just wouldn't want to.

 

6\. Jeffery: Active

Two washed out red eye lights, slouching, and a sleep deprived voice.

The best word to describe him while avoiding most of the similarities between Jeffery and Evan, is tired. Although he would get some sleep at any chance he got, he'd always wake up more and more tired. He also holds all of Red's science days, and some of the time spent with Gaster. A good thing, however, is that he doesn't really want to be there. 

He shows up when Red feels like he doesn't want to do anything, but he knows he has stuff to do. Jeffery shows up, writes a note similar to Edge's hand writing for Red, telling him to not worry about whatever it was Jefferey had done for him, and he'd leave. He's not the lingering type.

The trick is making him stay long enough, in order to convince him to leave without coming back (if it was put bluntly of course).

When convinced, he would leave almost immediately, no words to be said. He would leave Red with his memories from the core and part of the time with Gaster.

 

7\. Sylvester: Merged back with Red

No eye lights, tense posture, talks without the use of conjunctions.

Extremely observant, which he uses to tell what everyone wants, he doesn't tell anyone what he wants because he says it doesn't matter. Sylvester does anything he's asked to do, and all the chores, until he's told to stop.

Sylvester shows up when Red wishes he would stop troubling everyone.

When he's managed to be convinced he's not just some lowly slave, then he, like most of the other personas, would leave.

Sylvester leaves Red with his proficiency to tell and keep secrets, and his want to please others.

 

8\. Frank: Active

Two needle point red eye lights, good posture, and a strong voice.

Frank often makes jokes, holding a sharp enough wit to make funny come backs. He can take a joke that's about him, albeit very badly. He could play it off like it doesn't bother him, but he's very insecure about many things, and his humor is just how he plays it off. 

He shows up when Red is feeling hyper-aware or self-consious of everything about him. 

Frank would probably leave if he's comforted or something, though it's questionable.

He would leave Red with more of an ability to take a joke, and how he appears to other people. He still probably won't care, but he'll know.

 

9\. ------- : Active  (Some things below are speculations, as there was not much to work with when figuring him out)

Two small firey red eye lights, either down low to the ground in a cautious position, or poised to attack. He does not seem capable of sentences, but his name is still uncertain.

Being hostile and feral, he more resembles a dog or wolf. He can understand speech, but even if you say you're not going to hurt him, and you move forward, be prepared to be snapped at.

If he could be mollified, then he may become over-protective of the person who gained his trust. 

He shows up when Red is overcome with an extreme emotion (most likely rage) that would not supply thoughts as to why he was feeling this way. 

When treated as an equal, he would be noticeably happier, and less hostile, though sudden movements may not be smart if you favor your hands and fingers. He would linger for the rest of the day and disappear by morning.

He would leave Red with more of a flame inside of him.

 

10\. Zack: Active

Two fuzzy borderline red/pink eye lights, he has the same posture as Red, but he has a lower more gravely voice.

He is, quite frankly, holding all of Red's sexual drive. In reality, he just wants to be loved (not physically, but he's okay with that too).

Unsure of when he shows up.

He would leave when he's showed he's loved, and depending on how long it takes, is how long he's staying.

Zack would leave Red with the want to be loved, under the pretense of wanting to make love.

 

11\. Albert: Merged back with Red

One inflated red iris, straight posture, and a calm voice.

He's practically like Gaster, considering they were both sadistic, except Albert was more collected and civil. Albert was also extremely confident, and he never second guessed himself. 

He could've shown up when Red wished to hurt several people at one time, but when Sans had told Red to be more civil, then that may have been why Albert had shown up.

He had left when he was shown that what he was doing was possibly not the right thing, as he had been so sure of before.

Albert leaves Red with his willingness to hurt people, but oddly enough not his memories from Gaster. 

 

12\. Harp: Active

Two prominent red-ish orange eye lights, slumped posture, and a high voice.

He never stops complaining, and he's usually always in pain. He tried not to move when he doesn't have to, and he'll often ask to be carried and fed.

He would show up if Red has an extremely big problem that interferes with everyday life, but he doesn't want to tell anyone. 

A way to make him leave is to show him proper ways of communicating pain, instead of just shouting out when he was in pain. There were certain things to keep in, instead of letting out.

Harp leaves Red with more of a willingness to talk about his problems, which is important, after Sylvester had made Red feel opposed to such.

 

13\. Fell: Active

One deep blood red iris, relaxed, confident posture, and he talks the same as Red, except a deeper voice.

He's an arsonist who likes to feed into insecurities of others, he is extremely confident, and cannot be convinced why he shouldn't be. He knows what he's doing is wrong, and revels in it. He also has an explosive temper.

It's still a mystery as to how to get him to go, as there doesn't seem to be any subjects he's not unsure of, or insecure about. He may feel like everyone is a threat to him, so he would be in constant paranoia. But that would be just an assumption.

He may show up when Red feels like setting something on fire, or if his life was in jeopardy. 

Fell would leave Red more of a liking to fire (obviously), and he would give Red his paranoia back, if the past assumption had been correct. And he gives Red back his talent to annoy people.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone have a favorite persona? Comment why below


	10. You Did Me Quite A Frighten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carnival fluff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Here's some fluff to make up for last week!
> 
> This chapter and the next will mostly have bonding opportunities for everyone.
> 
> Also, for some reason, sometimes the indention won't work, so this chapter may have a funky set up.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Red woke up to a pile of dust around him.

…

He sat up, his eyes searching frantically for Sans. Last he could recall, Sans was right beside him. But now he was neither on the bed or in the chair.

Red jumped as someone knocked on the door, halting his thoughts from escalating even further, thankfully. He wasn;’t sure why, but lately his mind has been growing steadily darker.

He leapt up and swung the door open, revealing Sans who gave Red an exhausted smile.

“Hey.”

Red sighed in relief, hugging Sans tightly enough that his arms started to hurt.

“Uh, you okay—?” Sans cut off as he saw Red’s dust covered bed. “What happened? Are you alright? I was literally gone for only a couple minutes.”

Red didn’t answer for a few minutes. Eventually he choked out, “I thought it was you.”

Sans tensed before relaxing, patting Red on the back. “Oh, heh, nope I’m still very much alive.”

“Yeah, no duh.”

They both stood there for a couple more minutes, before Sans pulled away. “Do you really not know what happened?”

Red shook his head.

“Huh. Well how about that.”

Red could feel Sans check him, but he didn’t mind.

“Your LV didn’t go up…” Sans said, scratching the back of his skull in confusion.

“It didn’t?” Red asked. If his LV didn’t go up, then he didn’t kill anyone. But then how’d the dust end up in his bed? Either someone else killed them or some sicko killed someone and dumped the dust in his bed. The former was more likely.

Sans frowned. “Well, while I was gone, I told Horror to watch you, because of the lockdown and all, so I guess…”

Red frowned too. Not because of the fact that Horror killed someone, but because Sans had told _Horror_ , of all monsters, to watch him. While he was sleeping. Completely defenseless.

Now, Red’s not saying that he doesn’t trust Horror, but he doesn’t trust Horror. At all. Not even a little.

“Why Horror?” Red asked.

“Huh?”

“Why would you ask someone we barely know to watch over me while I’m defenseless? Why not Edge, or Papyrus?”

Sans shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Well, he was the closest, okay? Besides, it worked out fine, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess but… Still. It very nearly wasn’t.”

Sans shook his head, sighing. “Alright whatever. Oh, uh, breakfast is ready, by the way.”

Red nodded, and they both made their way down the stairs to the kitchen, where Mango was holding a pot full of… something, Papyrus was washing extra dishes, Edge was carrying all the plates, cups, and silverware, placing them on the table where Horror was already sitting, staring intently at the pot his brother was holding, like it held the answer to life.

Red and Sans took their seats, after Sans had leaned over and said a few things to Horror that Red didn’t quite catch.

“ _Bone_ appetite,” Sans quipped as the pot was set on the table.

Red snickered, and Horror briefly smiled, before leaning forward to serve his own helping.

As they were eating, Red noticed how Papyrus kept opening his mouth to say something before closing it again. He continued with this, even as breakfast was cleaned up and they were all in the living room. He was sure Sans had taken note of it as well.

Red sighed, his patience running thin, and he nearly snapped at Papyrus, but managed to calm himself down before asking, “What do you want to say, Papyrus?”

Papyrus looked at Red and looked at the ground. “AM I THAT TRANSPARENT?” Everyone nodded around the room, but Papyrus didn’t seem to care much for the answer. “OH WELL. ANYWAYS. I JUST WANTED YOU GUYS TO KNOW THAT THERE’S A FAIR IN TOWN TOMORROW.”

Mango’s eyes lit up. “OH! WHAT’S A FAIR? IT SOUNDS COOL!”

Papyrus gasped. “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT A FAIR IS??”

“SADLY, I DON’T BELIEVE THEY HAD THEM IN THE UNDERGROUND.”

“WELL, WE CAN’T HAVE THAT! MY PROPOSAL IS THAT ALL OF US COULD GO TO THE FAIR TOGETHER! FOR QUALITY BONDING TIME!”

Red’s gut hurt at the thought of the different rides at the fair, mixed with the cotton candy and caramel corn. He could practically feel the vomit in the back of his non-existent throat. He’s only been to a fair once, and he didn’t care much for the experience at all.

Sans, however, looked thrilled at the idea. Horror… it was hard to tell his expression, since his face usually stayed the same.

Edge didn’t seem too excited, but he agreed to go anyways.

No one said no, because Papyrus and Mango practically had stars shining in their sockets.

Red was already dreading the day he was going to have tomorrow.

 

*       *         *

 

Everyone piled in the two cars they had available, Papyrus and Edge driving each.

It was the day of the fair, and Red had to practically be dragged out of the house by Sans.

Currently he was brooding in the front seat, next to Edge. Horror was in the backseat, staring out the window.

The entire car ride was silent.

_I can’t believe I have to go to a fair…_

**_Well, maybe it won’t be as bad as it seems. You might have fun! You just have to avoid the really…_ ** **jaw-dropping _,_ stomach-turning _rides._**

_Heheh. Okay, I guess so._

Red smiled, staring at the road ahead. He’d have to give it a shot then. Besides, Sans seems excited, so he’d try not to be a buzzkill.

Edge glanced at him briefly, before smiling a little too, and facing the road again.

The mood seemed to brighten a bit, and the silence became more companionable.

When they finally arrived at the fair, their cars parked about a block away, and their tickets already paid for, Edge started telling them what they had to do.

“OKAY, SO PAPYRUS, MANGO, AND I MUST BE ACCOMPANIED BY SANS, HORROR, OR RED AT ALL TIMES. IN CASE OF AN EMERGANCY, THEY ARE TO TELEPORT US TO A SAFER LOCATION, AND YOU HAVE TO MEET UP WITH EVERYONE ELSE, AND TELL US WHAT HAPPENED. UNDER _NO_ CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU RETALIATE, BECAUSE THERE MAY BE AN AMBUSH PLANNED. DO _NOT_ GET SEPARATED, BUT IN A WORST CASE SENARIO, IF YOU CANNOT FIND AT LEAST SANS, HORROR, OR RED, THEN I WILL BE NEAR THE FERRIS WHEEL AND THE FOOD COURT. BUT I MAY BE ON A RIDE, SO JUST WAIT THERE FOR ME TO SHOW UP—”

“Bro. Is this really necessary?” Red interrupted, pulling on his brother’s sleeve.

“YES. IT IS. I DON’T WANT ANYONE TO BE HURT, LOST, OR WORSE.”

“Okay, we understand that, but this may be a bit much.” Sans added, looking antsy.

Edge rolled his eyes. “OKAY, _FINE_. JUST REMEMBER WHAT I SAID AND HAVE FUN.”

Before the words could even finish leaving him mouth, Papyrus was pulling Edge away, towards one of the tallest rides, that was next to the Ferris wheel. Edge seemed to be shouting at Papyrus, but Papyrus didn’t look like he cared. He pulled him into a small skeleton kiss, and Edge shut up immediately.

Horror was picked up by Mango, who promptly dashed towards the ride that provided most of the screams that was heard all over the fair grounds.

Sans was practically jumping foot to foot in excitement, and Red chuckled.

“You haven’t been this excited since… Forever,” Red noted, grinning.

Sans rolled his eyes, but he was glancing around at each ride.

“Red, which one should we go on first?” Sans grinned at Red’s obvious discomfort.

“How about… uh… that one,” Red said, pointing at a ride with a cart designed for two people that wasn’t going too fast. It looked like it was called Mouse Trap, and there were little pictures and paintings of mice caught in traps with their necks broken.

It was not a ride for children.

Sans took one look and he already seemed bored. “No, that’s a kiddy ride, how about that one?” Sans asked, pointing to the second tallest ride that had people strapped in seats, bringing them up vertically and dropping them before catching them again.

Red’s mind was already thinking about what could go wrong on that ride, and he was quick to decline. “Sans, c’mon, look at Mouse Trap. There are dead mice painted on the ride. It’s clearly not meant for children.”

Sans let out a dramatic sigh, before saying, “Fine. But I choose next ride.”

“Oh boy.”

They both made their way over to the ride, and they waited in a relatively short line before they climbed into the cart, the thin metal bar pressing into their laps.

The ride started out slow at first, and it mainly just pushed them in circles, before going into a completely black part that wasn’t visible from the outside.

“Ooooo, spooooky,” Sans stated sarcastically, shaking his hands slightly.

“Shut up, you nerd. At least it’s better than your lame—” Red cut off when strobe lights started flickering on and off.

They both jumped when a loud screech came from their left, and a bright light illuminated the face of some puppet with crazy hair.

“Oh shit.” Sans pressed closer to Red’s side, shying away from it.

Red laughed a bit. “What? Do ya not like puppets?”

“Shut up!”

Red smirked but didn’t say anything else. He wrapped his arm around Sans, who was looking very indignant and very scared.

By the time the ride ended (with many similar jump-scares like the first) Sans was reduced to a shivering wreck, and Red was trying to keep from laughing.

“That was great!” Red exclaimed once they were walking away from the ride.

“No! It was about the _opposite_ of great!” Sans frowned, hunching over with his arms crossed.

“Haha, oh come on, it wasn’t _that_ bad! Anyway, isn’t it yer turn ta choose a ride?”

Sans’s bad mood all but vanished at the mention of the ride of his choice. Which was possibly the most frightening ride Red has ever seen in his life.

“This is gonna be so much fun!” Sans grinned, pumping his fists in the air as enthusiastically as Sans could.

Red, however, was matching Sans’s excitement with dread.

“Whateva ya say…” Red muttered, looking unconvinced.

Sans paused and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, nothin’ bad’s gonna happen.” He shook Red back and forth with the same hand he used to calm him down. “Now get hyped! It’s time to have fun!”

Red groaned but grinned along with Sans. It was hard to be unenthusiastic when Sans seemed so happy. Him being happy made Red feel happy.

So, they both stood in the short line to a small, hollow sphere attached to two thick bungee cords, leading up to two tall towers that had to be over fifty feet.

Red blanched as he watched the couple of humans that climbed into the sphere shoot up over the towers and rocket back down, continuing to bounce up and down until eventually coming to a stop.

Sans only seemed to get more excited.

“We’re next in line!” Sans punched Red in the arm.

Red only nodded, unable to speak through the dread and anticipation weighing on him.

But to Red’s delight and Sans’s shock, the two people manning the ride blocked off the line, politely explaining that they needed to clean out the sphere before anyone else got in it.

“Oh, no it’s _quite_ alright. We can come back later,” Red grinned, all earlier feelings replaced with relief.

Sans gaped at him, betrayal written openly across his features.

“What??” Sans asked, sounding crestfallen and upset.

Red shrugged, feeling uncomfortable under the stare Sans was giving him. “Well, we can jus’ go on another ride while we wait.”

Sans glared at him. “Fine.” He pointed at a ride where one to three people were strapped in harnesses and lifted over forty feet in the air and dropped in a free fall before swinging back to the earlier height, until they slowed down enough to grab a loop thing that slowed their decent even faster. “Let’s ride that one.”

Red’s face turned even paler.

What had he gotten himself into?

 

*       *         *

 

By the end of the evening, Red was about to throw his metaphorical guts up, and pass out.

Sans seemed like the exact opposite: he was full of energy, and he was practically sprinting between each ride.

Every ride Red chose were easy-going, relaxing, and simple rides that you could fall asleep on (with a few exceptions), whereas, the ones _Sans_ chose… were the rides that people threw up on, passed out on, and the ones that momentarily made you forget how to function properly. (But Red had a blast on the bumper cars though—he made a few kids cry. Sans called him heartless, and Red agreed, pointing out how they were _skeletons_ , and they were _both_ heartless.)

When everyone else met up at the Ferris Wheel at the end of the night, Papyrus, Edge, and Mango all seemed equally as energetic as Sans, if not more so, but Horror seemed to be faring similar to Red, who were both weary and exhausted.

Edge was carrying a few stuffed toys, and Mango was holding all sorts of bagged food, like Carmel Corn and cotton candy.

Horror’s face was painted like a wolf, and Mango’s face was a fox, which Red had just barely kept himself from laughing out loud about.

When they first saw it, Sans whined, saying _they_ should have gotten their faces painted, and how it would’ve looked so cool. Sans was so much like Blueberry when he was energized, it was almost sickening.

Not that Red disliked him, but Sans being like Blueberry was not a thought he’d like to entertain.

Red disagreed about the face paint being cool, but he didn’t say anything.

“DID EVERYONE HAVE FUN?” Papyrus asked, his eye sockets shining brightly.

Everyone nodded their heads vigorously. Except for Red and Horror. They both slowly nodded, careful to make it seem like they weren’t lying, and that they were just exhausted.

Which they were, but still.

“NO ONE WAS HURT, OR APPROACHED BY ANY STRANGER THAT SHOWED EXTREME INTEREST IN YOU AND YOUR COMPANION?” Edge asked, staring at every one of them intensely.

Everyone shook their heads, Mango letting out a cheery, “NOPE!”

Edge nodded, satisfied, and turned around to get in line for the Ferris Wheel, Papyrus trailing behind him.

Sans grabbed Red’s sleeve and pulled him in line as well.

Red glanced behind him and saw Horror placed on Mango’s shoulders, behind them in line.

Red looked back at Sans who was grinning happily, his eye lights shining as they darted between the multi-colored lights decorating the fences, rides, and the mini-games with the stuffed animal prizes.

Red relaxed, all the tension draining from his body, and he smiled too, feeling content with the world, even after he felt like he was going to die earlier from the multitude of rides.

Sans glanced at him, his smile growing even wider, and he pulled him in a brief hug, before letting him go.

“You seem tired,” Sans chuckled, smirking.

Red chuckled dryly back. “I wonder why.” His voice was hoarse from all the shouting for mercy he’s been doing for the past few hours. Sans looked and sounded like he’d just got here though, and Red envied him for it.

“I blame it on the Coca-Cola,” Horror said lightly, making Red jump.

He turned around and saw Horror staring at him with what looked like a forced smile. Red wasn’t sure how genuine it was though, considering that was how he looked all the time. Well, minus the wolf face-paint.

Sans grinned and punched Red in the arm for what had to be the tenth time that day. “ _Yeah_ , maybe you should stop drinkin’ it.”

Red snorted, ignoring the fact that Horror was full-blown staring at him with his one giant-red iris, burning holes into his skull.

“Oh please, are _you_ , of all people, getting on _me_ about my _health_?”

Sans shrugged. “I’m just sayin’. Those things don’t even give you a sugar rush. You just crash, and sound drunk all day.”

“Then it’s probably not Coca-Cola that I’m drinking,” Red elbowed Sans, winking at him and laughing.

“THEN WHAT WOULD YOU BE DRINKING?” Mango piped up, tilting his head slightly.

Red still couldn’t get over how the fox moved on his face when he talked, which made him want to start laughing all over again.

Horror leaned down and whispered in his brother’s “ears”, and Mango nodded.

“OH, OKAY, THAT WOULD MAKE SENSE.” Everyone paused for a second. “WHAT DOES ALCHOHOL TASTE LIKE?”

Red and Sans shared a look, and they looked at Horror, who gave a clueless shrug.

Red gasped, and Sans pantomimed a swoon, landing in Red’s arms. “Like _heaven_ ,” Red exaggerated dreamily. He made sure to sound like a love-sick teenager, for extra effect.

“It’s simply _unacceptable_ that you’ve never tried such a delicacy before! Tomorrow, we should head off to the bar, and you can try plenty of drinks!” Sans stood up, placing a hand on his chest, mimicking one of Blueberry’s poses.

**_Maybe we should mention that if they drink too much, then they’ll get hungover…_ **

**_Nah, it’ll be_ ** **fine _! Don’t worry about it._**

Red chuckled at how much Sans sounded and looked like the child-like past roommate. The thought no longer bothered him, since he knew Sans would be back to normal tomorrow.

Horror glanced at his brother who shrugged, almost making him fall off.

“Okay, sure,” Horror said, staring at the other two. It would seem that Horror was just the staring type. “We don’t have jobs though, so you’ll have ta pay.”

Sans shrugged. “I’ve got plenty of money, but you’ll have to work it off. Nothing serious,” he added after the iris shrunk in Horror’s eyes, and Mango seemed to flinch at his words. “Just some chores, like dishes, laundry, dusting, all that stuff. And dependin’ how much you drink, it could be fer like a day, or a week at the most.”

Red started at that. He avoided Sans’s eyes when he realized he still hadn’t worked off the money he used for his phone.

“Uh, did I ever work off my debt? I can’t remember if I did or not.”

“Oh, yeah, you did. Don’t worry about it.”

Everyone shuffled forward as the line moved up.

Sans snickered, and Red looked at him questioningly.

“Oh, I’m just remembering how loud you were screaming when we went on the slingshot ride.”

Red frowned, crossing his arms and huffing in embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t pout, Red. We’re at a fair. This is not proper behavior!” Sans joked, poking Red’s face.

Red swatted Sans’s hand away, but that just made Sans lean all his weight on him.

Red tried pushing him away, but Sans leaned on his hands, asking him to stop pushing him away with a grin, so Red just gave up and let Sans practically fall on him.

Horror snickered, and Mango smiled.

Red could remember when the most reaction you could get out of the two was a crooked smile from Mango, and a stiff grin from Horror. Unless you were aiming for a creepy-ass laugh, then they’d both supply it happily.

Usually, they’d have straight, emotionless masks, and it was unnerving, to say the least.

But these past few months had them warming up quite nicely, albeit, when it came to food, they were like wolves.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that they had been starving before they ended up at their house.

Red was still unsure where they came from before, but every time he asked, it never stayed in his head for longer than a few minutes. Red eventually gave up trying to learn about it.

A light punch in the arm brought Red back to reality, and Sans pushed him forward in the line that had moved on without him. Thankfully, he didn’t lose his place.

He caught his balance before he fell over, and he shot a glare to Sans who shrugged.

“You weren’t movin’.”

“You don’t just push someone when they ain’t movin’!” Red laughed.

Sans shrugged again. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

Red rolled his eye lights, his mouth twitching upward in a smile.

Just then he felt another rougher shove on his left, which he _did_ end up on the ground from, somehow knocking the wind out of him, despite his distinct lack of lungs.

He felt a dirty shoe being placed on his chest, pushing down, preventing him from sucking in the much-needed air.

Someone’s highly obnoxious laughter followed his desperate wheezes, but as soon as the foot was there, it was gone, and the laughter immediately cut off. His head pounded, but that was ignored. The air he was gasping in was just about the greatest thing he’d ever had in his life.

Someone was at Red’s side. It looked like Mango, but Horror was no longer on his shoulders. Red couldn’t see what was happening from behind Mango’s tall stature, but from the deep growls and what were probably threats, along with the whimpering, he could guess.

“ARE YOU OKAY?” Mango asked, sounding… worried?

Red couldn’t talk so he just nods, still wheezing and coughing.

Red felt like needles were being stabbed into his rib cage, and stars danced along the edge of his vision.

So then maybe skeletons _do_ need air?

Red didn’t know, but from what he was seeing and feeling right now, it certainly felt like it.

“JUST TAKE SOME DEEP BREATHS, OKAY? YOU’RE BREATHING TOO FAST, YOU’RE NOT TAKING IN ENOUGH OXYGEN,” Mango noted, his gloved hands sitting Red up, supporting his back.

Red did as he was told and after a few minutes, he could breathe normally again.

He smiled gratefully at Mango, and he turned his head back to look at the scene in front of him.

Some teenager was tripping over his feet, trying to get away, Horror and Sans staring daggers at him. If Red looked close enough, he could see that there was something wrong with his foot. It looked like it was twisted at an angle that definitely wasn’t natural, and he was hugging his arm to his chest.

At first, he was confused, then extremely angry at the teenager for knocking him down, and he wanted to bust the kid’s skull in.

Red took a step back and examined that thought. He was shocked that he felt that, but he shook it off, because something just felt _normal_ enough about that thought, he didn’t bother correcting himself. After that, he felt flustered that he was able to be pinned down by what looked like a fifteen-year-old. Then he was angry again.

Before his thought process could continue any longer, Sans and Horror walked over, and Red looked away, avoiding eye-contact.

_Well great, they probably think I’m weak._

**_I hope that won’t become a problem in the future. But, if it is, then we can take care of it, can’t we?_ **

_What are you insinuating?_

**_Well, you poor innocent idiot, we’ll just have to—_ **

“Are you okay?” Sans asked, tilting his chin up to look at him in the face.

“Y-Yeah… I’m good.” His voice felt scratchy, and it hurt to talk, so he made a mental note to avoid that for now.

“What a fucker, thinking he can just walk right up to someone, push them over, and step on them. People like that just… Ugh.” Horror said, looking disgusted.

Red felt Sans check him, but he didn’t mind. Sans sighed, looking relieved.

He hauled Red up and slung one arm over his shoulder, Horror slipping under the other. The gesture was touching, but also very embarrassing.

Red felt his face heat up with each stare they got, and the attention made him squirm.

“Guys, I can walk just fine y’know.”

“Nonsense,” Sans dismissed.

“Blasphemy,” Horror agreed with Sans.

Red sighed, exasperated.

Edge and Papyrus were no longer in front of them, and they seemed to have been on the Ferris Wheel for a while now.

They were next in line, and Red was grateful that they let go of him after they were done shuffling up to the cart.

Sans let him get in first, Horror and Mango waving at them dramatically, making it seem like they were leaving forever, and causing quite a scene.

Red turned his head and chuckled, trying to push away the feelings of rage in his soul, after being pushed over by a _fucking_ _teenager_.

“So, you okay?” Sans asked.

“Yep. I’m alright. I just got the wind knocked out of me is all.”

Sans nodded, resting his head on his shoulder, sighing.

“Sorry. I’m just concerned is all.”

Red nodded before resting his chin on Sans’s head. “I know.”

They didn’t talk for awhile after that. They just stared at the breath-taking view of the fair, the bright multi-colored lights sparkling from the ground.

Red sighed at the sight, letting everything go for a few seconds. He didn’t think, he didn’t feel anything but contentment, and everything just seemed so natural, and so _right_.

“Hey Red?” Sans asked.

He snapped back into reality, and his thoughts started spinning again, almost making him dizzy.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

He didn’t know why Sans did, and he hated that. But he loved it, too.

“I love you too, Sans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey, by the way, I realized that the guide to the persona's were supposed to be Chapter Nine, but they somehow managed to switch with Chapter Eight: Master of Disguise.
> 
> I fixed it, but I'm just putting that out there.


	11. Woah Alcohol is Weird, Please Stop Threatening People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red, Sans, Horror, and Mango go drinking together!
> 
> Drunken confessions, Red's miserable as usual, Horror is weird and more emotional when he drinks.
> 
> WARNING!! SUICIDAL THOUGHTS (no one dies though)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for this one seeming so short, but I'm pretty sure the next one'll make up for it.
> 
> I feel pretty bad for not giving Mango more run time, so I'm gonna try and fix that next chapter or next next chapter. I'm not sure.
> 
> Oh, also! I'm going to be making a Q&A soon, so if there's anything you want to ask the characters themselves, or the personalities, or even me, the unassuming pie writing this, please feel free to. I'm not going to upload it for quite awhile, though, so you can ask whenever pretty much. Any, and more than likely, all questions will be added to the Q&A! Just make sure you say who the question is directed to. Or if you want to give the characters anything, then that's welcome too! Gifts, questions, comments, all the good stuff!
> 
> (Please feel free to participate! There's no judgement here!)

         Horror was on his third shot of whiskey now.

         He didn’t know why he kept drinking it—the taste burnt his non-existent throat, and he could tell it wasn’t the best idea in the world to drink it, after just one look at the other patrons at the bar. And yet, he couldn’t stop.

         His brother seemed to be in a similar state of intoxication.

         Mango was downing glasses of beers, on his fourth already.

         To his left, Red and Sans were seeing who could drink the most Vodka straight, before passing out.

         Horror told his brother to slow down when Mango tipped his head back to finish off his fifth beer. Who knew what kind of damage passing out drinking could have on someone??

         Horror didn’t slow down, when he reached his fifth shot, however. Call him hypocritical all you’d like, he just appreciated the dull fog it settled on everything, quieting anything lower than a whisper.

         “Chug! Chug! Chug!” Sans chanted, pumping his fists with every word. Red was currently downing a whole bottle of Jack Daniels, having completely forgotten about their challenge earlier.

         In a few seconds it was gone, and Red slammed the bottle down, gasping for air he didn’t need. Sans whistled loudly, and some stranger slapped Red on the back, laughing merrily.

         Horror zeroed in on the human, the fog suddenly lifting from his senses, and he watched his every movement from a twitch in his fingers, to the motion of his mouth when he was talking.

         He seemed to be just as drunk as Red and Sans were, but as Horror had recently found out, people do stupid things when they’re intoxicated.

         Eventually the man turned around and started flirting with some girls.

         Horror waved the bartender over for another shot.

         He started to tune back into everyone else’s conversations, feeling elated for some reason. But then he had to think, is there ever any reason for what he does?

         “’Ey! Watch yer mouth you filthy bitch!” Red growled to a woman who had been talking to him and Sans, slurring his words, obviously very drunk.

         She held up her hands looking confused, but not offended by the derogatory term. Horror wondered why that was. “All I said was that you should probably stop drinking? You’re about two beers away from passing out.”

         Horror watched the lady, on guard.

         She seemed scrawny and small, but also fairly old and frail. About in her fifties, Horror guessed.

         “No fuckin’ way! I don’ pass out drinkin’, you fuck.” Red turned to the bartender. “’Ey Mister Bartender! Two more beers!” Red called.

         He was given two more beers and Red downed one, not taking his eyes off the lady. He drank the other, albeit, more slowly. A moments pause before Red let out an obnoxious “HA”.

         “See? I’m not passing out. So, fuck off and mind yer own damn business.”

         “Yeah, lady, you heard the man! Back off,” Sans agreed.

         She shook her head and walked away.

         Horror ordered another shot, feeling a little disoriented, and hating but loving the feeling.

         So, he kept drinking until he was talking to Sans and Red about some human card/digital game about a poking man? He wasn’t positive about what it was, but he sure sounded like he did.

         He soon became aware about his brother joining him in talking about some weird shit.

         He noticed two girls walk up to the four of them with red dresses hugging them tightly, revealing a lot more skin than Horror was comfortable with.

         Their conversation halted when one of them got a little closer to Sans than what was normal for strangers.

         Horror could just barely hear a few flirty remarks, before Red exploded and pushed the girl to the ground, growling, “He’s taken. Go fuck sumne’ else.”

         Her friend glared at him and helped the girl on the ground to her feet, and they walked away.

         The bartender cleared his throat, and pointed to the door, looking at Red.

         Red snarled and hopped off the stool. “’Aight I can take a hint.” He picked up Sans, with surprising strength (when did he get stronger?), and carried him to the door, not even walking in a straight line. “Let’s go an’ fin’ some other bar ta drink at.”

         Horror hopped off the stool, and grabbed his brother’s hand, pulling him after the two.

         He felt oddly unstable on his legs, reminding him of more… _unpleasant_ times when he could barely walk.

         He shook off the memories and stumbled after the couple that left through the door, slamming it behind them.

         He watched as Red weaved in a random direction, hiccupping and growling to anyone that walked by. Despite the late hour, there seemed to be plenty of people still out.

         “I think yer done, Babe,” Sans said into Red’s jacket.

         “What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout? ‘M jus’ getting’ started!” Red protested, his shoulder bumping against the wall of a building.

         Horror dragged his brother behind him, who was talking about bears with glasses, until they caught up to the two.

         “C’mon, yer not even walkin’ in a straight line, that’s enough,” Sans insisted, pulling on the fluff of Red’s jacket.

         Red groaned dramatically, before muttering a few things Horror didn’t quite catch.

         Sans squirmed in his grip and pecked their mouths together.

         “Yer not gonna die. But yer gonna wish ya were in the mornin’,” Sans chuckled.

         Horror narrowed his eyes. Was he threatening Red? Why would he wish he was dead in the morning?

         Red chuckled too, not bothering to stay in a bad mood. “Darlin’, ‘M _always_ wishin’ I was dead,” he winked.

         Sans chuckled, obviously too drunk to catch the darker, more serious undertone of his voice. Horror wasn’t.

         He walked up to the two, letting go of his brother’s hand to stop Red.

         “Yo, Red. You good?” Horror asked. He might not have been too drunk to notice how serious Red was, but Horror wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was. He couldn’t quite talk how he normally did either, but at least he hadn’t lost his ability to do so, unlike his brother who was mumbling to himself about tree killers.

         Red snorted. “Funny. What do you think?”

         Horror shrugged, staring at Red intensely.

         That seemed to make Red uncomfortable. “Uh, you really don’ stop with th’ starin’, huh?”

         Horror didn’t answer. Nor did he stop staring.

         Soft snores directed their attention to Sans who had fallen asleep in Red’s arms.

         “Let’s take this back ‘ome.”

         And with that they teleported away, Horror grabbing Mango’s hand again.

         As soon as the living room came into view, Mango fell onto the ground, hugging the carpet.

         Red collapsed onto the couch, hugging Sans closer.

         Horror sat next to him and positioned himself where he could more comfortably stare at the other skeleton.

         “So, chocolate? You like it?” Red asked, eyeing him. Did he completely forget what Horror asked him?

         “I’ll answer you if you answer me,” Horror said, his voice as flat as a road in Florida. Even though he was itching to say.

         Red nodded. “That’s fair.”

         “I like milk chocolate.”

         Horror could still remember the first time he had tried chocolate. He had been half-asleep in an ally-way, hugging his brother protectively against him. They had both been so small… It ended up being another night without food, too. Horror always wished he could do more for his brother, give him a home, food, new clothes, books… But he never seemed to manage it.

         No one would give a job to a child.

         Horror had woken up when something solid hit him on the skull. He had reached for his magic, still weak from hunger and fatigue.

         But the monster that had thrown something at him vanished.

         Horror looked around warily, before checking if his brother was okay. Then, he went on to examine what had been thrown at him with a detached anger.

         It was… a chocolate bar?

         It had still been in its wrapping, too.

         Horror nudged his brother awake, ignoring the gnawing hunger at the pit of his non-existent stomach.

         He never forgot the way his brother’s sunken eyes lit up when he saw the chocolate bar. It helped him ignore his hunger that much more easily.

         His brother had to practically force Horror to eat some of it.

         Maybe it was the fact that he was starving, but the chocolate had tasted like heaven itself. He couldn’t have imagined a better tasting food if he tried.

         They slept contentedly that night.

         “Oh,” Red said, bringing Horror back in the moment. “Nah, I prefer dark chocolate.”

         Horror made a face. What was the difference between the two, exactly?

         Red pulled out a tiny book and pencil from his jacket pocket.

         Horror watched as he scribbled some stuff down then placed his book beside him on the couch.

         “Okay, yer turn.”

         “Why do you wanna die every day?”

         “Oh, startin’ with th’ hard questions I see. I shoulda asked if you liked anyone, instead. I mean it seems like a fair trade of information—”

         “Stop stalling.” Horror honestly didn’t know if it was on purpose, or if he just couldn’t stay on topic because he was _that_ drunk. In all fairness, he very well could be.

         “Oh, sorry. Uh, well, I know that you guys seem really nice an’ all, an’ y’all are nice ta me, it’s jus’, I dunno _why_. ‘M a pretty shitty, worthless person that thinks ‘bout killin’ people on a regular basis. I know it’s not normal, but it seems like it is, so I don’ bother fixin’ it. I don’ offer anythin’ important, I don’ gots a job, can’t clean, can’t cook, an’ I jus’ seem ta be takin’ up a lotta time in yer lives. An’ I dunno how ta fix it, so I think, well if I were dead, then I wouldn’ have ta worry ‘bout ruinin’ yer lives no more.” Red paused, thinking for a second, and he continued. “But, like I said ‘fore, I know you guys still care fer me, fer _some_ _goddam_ _reason!_ I jus’ can’t figure out why? Y’know?” He looked at Horror, so he nodded, even though he had no idea if that was the correct response.

         “So, I mean, can’t kill myself, since I read this thing on Instagram, it said “Killing yerself doesn’ get rid of the pain, it just passes it ta ‘nother person”, an’ I don’ wanna do _that_ , so I don’. An’ you guys would prolly be mad, an’ I _really_ don’ wan that, so I don’. But, then I get these gaps in my memory, right? After each one, everyone avoids me fer a day, ‘cept Sans an’ sometimes Edge. Next day, I go to therapy fer some reason—'M forced ta go, by da way—an’ I take medication some mornins’ and ‘M forced ta take those, so you can imagine how it feels, yeah? I just feel like a burden on everyone, like they feel obligated ta keep me goin’, cuz we family, y’know? So, I don’t know what ta do ta make me feel in ‘control’ of my life, so I hurt myself.” Horror tried not to blanch. Red was rambling. He was rambling, and he has no filter to stop him from saying whatever crossed his mind, Horror realized. Red paused and positioned Sans, so he was leaning on Red without support. “I can control the pain I feel, an’ it’s… exhilarating?” Horror’s iris snapped to Red’s arms that were currently being exposed, showing deep cracks, scars, carvings, pictures, words… “Nah, distractin’ is more th’ word I wanna use.”

         Horror can’t keep himself from staring at the marks, but all he wanted was to look away. He couldn’t bear to look at his friend’s (when had they became friends…?) self-inflicted scars, but he couldn’t look away.

         Horror’s hands twitched with unease as he imagined how painful it must feel to have literal _carvings_ in your arms.

         Red kept talking, heedless of the stare Horror was giving him. “An’, I’d actively do this, yeah? Whenever I got ‘lone time ‘n stuff, I’d dig my claw thingies in the bone.” Red shook his hands in the air for emphasis, imitating energetic jazz hands. “But I mean, recently, some old roommate told me ta stop, an’ he gave me a damn good reason, too. At leas’ I think so. It made sense ta me, at leas’. He was a good friend. I treated ‘im like shit though, I guess. I think that was why he always avoided me. But maybe that wasn’ the reason… I can’t ‘member even raisin’ my voice at ‘im. But I mean, ‘e had ta have been avoidin’ me fer some reason…” Red trailed off, scrubbing his face with his hands.

         Horror felt annoyed. Obviously, from what Red was saying, this guy must not have been a very good friend. He told Red to stop hurting himself, but never actually hung out with him. It sickened him, knowing that Red was willing to make an effort to be friends with the guy, but the other guy just wasn’t. Did he give Red a sense of false hope? Was that why he was so torn up about it? Red didn’t seem to be like the kind of guy that would normally like making friends, so when he would, it must be a big deal.

         Horror would like to meet this “old roommate” and see what exactly he had against Red.

         “I jus’ wanna know what I did wrong, yanno?” Red continued, still burying his face in his hands. Suddenly he looked up, staring desperately at Horror. “I didn’t mess up around you, did I? You won’ avoid me, right? ‘M sorry, it’s just… I don’ have lotsa friends, an’… You seem like a decent guy…” Red seemed to cave in on himself right before Horror’s eyes, and the worst part, was that he didn’t know how to stop it. Red’s voice came out shaky, quiet, and his voice cracked. “I jus’ don’ wanna be alone again.”

         “Hey, hey, calm down, Red. We’re good pals, you and I.” ‘ _Good pals?’ That’s lame, there are so many other better choices for words._ “I won’t stop hanging out with you, even if you did do something wrong.” How could he? After this fiasco, he didn’t think he could ever manage to. Horror really didn’t know when he had started warming up to the miserable monster in front of him, but there was no going back now. “And, no, you didn’t mess anything up.”

         Horror moved his hand, and lamely patted Red on the back. Neither of them were really up for hugging, so back pats were the best option.

         “You promise?”

         “Yeah. Sure, I promise.” Horror hated promises. But, he supposed he’d have to make one for Red, if he wanted the skeleton to keep his sanity.

         Red gave a weak smile and cleared his throat. “Uh sorry ‘bout that.”

         Horror waved it off. “Nah, it’s cool.”

         Red narrowed his eyes, but shrugged it off.

         “So, do you like anyone?” Red asked without missing a beat, back to pretending like the conversation never happened.

         But he just talked about suicide?

         Horror began to wonder if that was a normal conversation topic for him.

         He wondered if he’d ever made an attempt on his life.

         Horror cut off that train of thought.

         “Uh yeah sure. I like my brother, my friends—”

         “No! Not—I meant, do ya _liiiiike_ anyone?” Red gave him the skeletal equivalent of an eye brow wiggle.

         “Uh, I don’t think I catch your meaning?”

         Horror did. It was just fun to mess with the skeleton. And he didn’t really like anyone, but he didn’t really want Red to know how lonely and miserable he was. Because he wasn’t! It just got lonely sometimes…

         Red rolled his bright white eye lights and sighed. “’Ave ya ever fallen fer someone?” he tried again.

         “Only when they push me over.”

         Red threw up his hands in exasperation, much to Horror’s amusement. “GAH! NEVERMIND!”

         Sans jumped awake.

         “Hey! Can’t anyone ever get their beauty sleep around here??” Sans shouted, crossing his arms.

         Red looked down at him and kissed the top of his skull. “Trust me babe, you don’ need it.”

         Sans’s face turned blue, but he played it off by asking, “Hey, you’re slurring your words. Are you drunk?”

         “’M not fucking drunk, we just all went to the bar. You too, sweetheart.”

         Sans looked confused momentarily, until he nodded. “Oh, that’s right, you almost passed out.”

         “Yep,” Red said with the confidence he shouldn’t have.

         Horror looked at the living room floor where his brother was still positioned. He had fallen asleep though, instead of murmuring about some weird show about ponies that were small? And they belonged to someone? His brother had even started singing to himself at one point about friendship.

         It was worrying.

         “You know, Red, you probably shouldn’t be abusing your alcohol intake like this. It’s unhealthy. Not to mention, concerning.” Sans spoke up, bringing Horror back to their conversation.

         “Relax, Sans. I don’ drink that much, yanno. Only when I go out,” Red yawned, leaning back into the couch, pulling Sans closer.

         “Yeah, but you always end up drunk, and you almost pass out each time,” Sans insisted, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

         “Each time?” Horror asked, yawning as well.

         Sans nodded. “Yeah, last time he was drunk he assaulted a man. Red’s gotten both of us banned from at least half the establishments in this town. Even Grillby’s, if you’d think that was possible…” Sans crossed his arms again pouting.

         _But then again, that may not be his fault, right?_

         Horror had to wonder, what exactly you had to do to get banned from more than _five_ establishments.

         It seems like it could be a talent.

         Red started to mumble something else, but he trailed of and fell asleep.

         Sans snickered and Horror smiled before they both decided to get some rest as well, despite the former having already gotten plenty.

         But it’s been a long day.

         And Horror wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, isn't that weird? Red's almost like an alcoholic! Not really though, I wouldn't do that. ;) 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos, it really means a lot to me!


	12. You Said You Wanted A Dog, So Here You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to silverryu25
> 
> Thank you so much for leaving such thoughtful and extensive comments every chapter, and I hope you can enjoy this one just as much, if not more!
> 
> GORE WARNING!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter could bring Horror more into the spotlight, so now all I need is Mango!
> 
> Also, sorry for the late update, it's been pretty hectic this past week. My school just started, and wowza, there were so many papers!

         Red woke up after hearing a loud _thud_.

         He looked around, and saw that Horror had rolled over while asleep, and had landed on Red’s shoulder, and Sans was face down, stretched across their laps. He decidedly ignored the fact that Sans was snoring loud enough to shake the house. (Like seriously, how had he not woken himself up yet??) Mango was still on the floor, entangled in their feet.

         Red blinked a few times, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

         He looked at a shelf on the far wall and saw that a book had fallen.

_That’s it? Oh good…_

         Red yawned and was about to go back to sleep when he heard a creak of the old staircase.

         He snapped to attention, his sharp white eye lights scanning the area around him. Red found nothing in the immediate area, so he managed to untangle himself from the mess of limbs without waking anyone up, and he sneaked over to the staircase, avoiding all the noisy floor-boards.

         Just in case. But he was sure it was nothing. It was nothing, he kept telling himself.

         He peeked around the corner and was shocked to find a very obviously fleshy silhouette frozen halfway up the staircase.

         **_There’s an intruder?!_**

Without warning, Red felt like he was almost _pushed_ out of himself, and he passed out. Unbeknownst to him, however, someone else was taking the reins.

         He took a moment to compose himself, before he shifted to a crouching position, his small fiery red eye lights inspecting the intruder for weapons.

         All he could make out was a metal baseball bat in the man’s hands that he held up like a batter at a baseball game, taking the staircase one step at a time.

         He shifted forward stealthily, crawling over the ground soundlessly, faster than one would expect.

         He crawled up the staircase behind the slow man, avoiding the step that creaked.

         When they reached the top, the man turned around to look down the steps. Red lifted himself to the ceiling with his blue magic, pressing himself flat.

         The man eventually turned back around, looking into the rooms along the hallway. Red twisted his head unnaturally, his vertebra popping, so he was facing down at the ground with his claws still embedded in the ceiling.

         Right before the human reached Papyrus’s room, Red scratched the ceiling, making a god-awful scraping noise, waiting for the man to look up.

         He looked around first, whipping into a defensive position, until he finally looked up. When he finally did, Red gave the creepiest and most unsettling smile he could manage, his shark-like teeth splitting his face in a wicked grin. The red light from Red’s eye lights reflected off his artificial gold tooth, making it shine menacingly.

         Red scuttled forward like a spider, crawling towards the man, still on the ceiling.

         The man’s face drained of color, and the bat fell from his now loose grip, before he turned tail and _ran_.

         Red let out a cackle, enjoying how the man ran in fear from only just a few parlor tricks of his. He felt… energized, for the first time in a while.

         Red teleported in front of the man when he looked back, and he bumped into the much bulkier skeleton.

         He screamed, and Red pinned his arms to his sides.

         He chuckled darkly, licking his teeth.

         “What a mistake you made, _buddy_ ,” Red growled, spitting at the man. “Comin’ into _my_ territory like some fuckin’—”

         “Red! Are you okay?? Papyrus? Edge?” Red heard Sans call from the living room, cutting him off.

         The man’s scream must’ve woken them up.

         In Red’s momentary distraction, the man kicked Red in his shin.

         Red growled, falling to one knee, his hands to steady himself. “Oh shit—INTRUDER!” Red bellowed, spittle flying from his mouth.

         Before the human could bolt, Red closed his mouth on the other’s calf.

         The human let out a screech of pain when Red’s teeth sank deep enough to scrape bone, his jeans not hindering Red’s assault.

         The blood in his mouth tasted metallic, and wonderful in all aspects of the word.

         He wanted more.

         He _needed_ more.

         Red got up, the human falling, since Red hadn’t let go of his leg. Red spat it out and crawled on top of the man.

         He could feel the blood that painted his face, dripping down onto the human beneath him.

         Red lowered his head, an ugly sound bubbling up from the back of his non-existent throat. He sunk his teeth past his shirt into his shoulder, his teeth scraping against the man’s clavicle.

         The man screamed again, his voice breaking.

         “Red! Stop!” Sans shouted, shaking him, suddenly beside them.

         Red growled, shoving Sans to the side roughly, ripping off a chunk of flesh from the man, who suddenly went limp.

         He took a good look at the man and laughed at what he saw.

         He had fainted. How cute.

         Red wolfed down the flesh, and Sans pushed him off the limp body.

         “What the hell, Red?! What’s—” Sans cut off, staring at Red’s eye sockets.

         “Hey—! I should ask you the same thing! You can’t just push someone off their meal.” Red muttered gruffly, glaring accusingly at him with his fierce red eye lights.

         Sans sucked in a breath. “W-who are you?”

         “I’ll let you guess,” Red purred, licking the blood off his face and hands, reveling in how Sans recoiled.

         “Persona eight, the most animalistic part of Red. Previously thought not to be able to speak,” Edge spoke up from his doorway, the paper guide in his hands.

         “You’d be right, brother,” Red purred again, hoping to get a reaction out of Edge. He was sorely disappointed when he received none, Edge’s poker face effectively schooling the emotion out of his posture and expression.

         Sans got up, and walked over to Edge to examine the sheet, the nearly dead body forgotten.

         Well, forgotten by Sans and possibly Edge. Red crawled closer and gnawed on the man’s finger.

         “Stop that!” Sans ordered, snapping his fingers at him.

         Red stopped gnawing, but kept the finger in his mouth, letting the blood flow freely.

         “Drop the dead man’s finger.”

         “He’sh nut dead ‘et,” Red said around the finger.

         He pointed at the man’s chest, which was still rising and falling. Weakly, albeit, but he was still breathing.

         He spat out the finger.

         “Why? Do you want him to be dead?”

         Sans didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Red took that as a yes. He moved to snap the man’s neck, remembering Sans didn’t like blood.

         “Dude, quit it, we might need this thing. Don’t kill it.” Sans looked like he was trying not to be sick. Maybe it was the blood?

         He used that excuse to lick he blood coming from the man’s shoulder and calf away, enjoying the taste more than he should.

         “What the fuck?!? Why do you keep trying to ingest this man?!” Sans threw up his hands in the air, exasperated and disgusted.

         Red snickered at his words, but he answered, “Well, you don’t like blood, and I do, so I figured I’d do you and me a favor by gettin’ rid of it.”

         “How does that make sense to you?” Sans asked, making a face.

         Red shrugged, poking the body.

         “Heya. What’s yer name?” Horror asked, leaning against the railing, his expression-less mask saying nothing. How long had he been there?

         “Dunno. Don’t got one.” Red licked as much blood from the body as he could, but some still landed on the floor.

         “Stop.” Edge commanded, and Red immediately stopped, backing away from the corpse.

         Edge snapped his fingers and pointed to his side, causing Red to scramble over the corpse and sit by Edge’s feet.

         Sans frowned, and Horror blinked.

         Red growled in the back of his throat. “Got a problem?”

         Sans shook his head and Horror shrugged.

         Edge looked sick to his stomach. “Ugh… I hate this.”

         “What?” Horror asked.

         “Everything. It’s bullshit. I don’t know why I thought the snapping and pointing would work, and it’s even worse that it did. I should be over my old habits by now.” Edge pinched the bridge of his nose, more annoyed than anything.

         Sans reached to grab the page from Edge but stopped short when he heard Red growling.

         “I was just going to grab the guide!” Sans pointed at it with his finger, frowning.

         Edge rolled his eye lights and nudged Red with his foot. “Play nice. Everyone here is okay.”

         Red narrowed his eyes but fell back onto the floor in defeat. “Yeah, yeah. That’s what ya said last time.”

         Edge sighed, handing Sans the guide.

         “So, you hungry, Mutt?” Edge asked, his voice teasing.

         “Mutt? Isat my name now?” Red asked, standing up. “’Kay, I could dig it. Yeah, I’m hungry.”

         Edge looked mortified at what he’d inadvertently done, and Sans was too stricken to laugh, unlike Horror, who was busy laughing his ass off.

         “ _Edge_.” Sans stared at Edge like he’d just recited blasphemy.

         “IT WAS A _JOKE_! I DIDN’T MEAN FOR HIM TO TAKE IT LITERALLY!”

         Sans turned to him, obviously trying to keep his anger in check. “’Mutt’ is not going to be your name. We can think of a different and _less_ _offensive_ ,” he shot a glare to Edge. “name.”

         “Nope, too late. It’s a part of me now.” It wasn’t really, but it seemed fitting for him, and Mutt didn’t want to change it. Plus, it seemed to be pissing Sans off, and making his brother look uncomfortable. Which were two lovely expressions on both of their faces at the moment.

         Sans seethed, turning back to Edge, who had been trying to stealthily slink away while Sans’s attention was diverted.

**“Get your ass back here.”**

         Mutt frowned, and walked over to Horror, who was gesturing him over to the stair case.

         “C’mon, I can get ya somethin’ ta eat.”

         Mutt followed Horror down the stairs and into the kitchen.

         “Thanks.”

         “No problem. Sans and Edge seem too busy bickering to give you actual food.” Horror rubbed at his skull.

         Mutt noticed but didn’t bother asking about the clear headache the other skeleton was suffering from. It wasn’t his problem, after all.

         He sat down at the table overlooking the kitchen, and he saw Horror gently opening cabinets.

         “So, whadya want?” Horror asked, scanning through the food selection.

         Mutt was caught off guard by the question. He was fully expecting Horror to just give him whatever was closest, and he would just have to deal with it.

         He was pleasantly surprised, although his suspicion increased tenfold.

         “Uh, whatever is fine with me.”

         Horror shrugged, grabbing some cereal. “Okay, cool.”

         They both sat in silence, eating their food, openly staring at each other, both trying to get a read on the other.

         When they finished, Mutt moved to grab Horror’s bowl, but he beat him to it, snatching both the dishes from his hands and putting them in the dishwasher.

         Mutt growled. “I was getting’ ‘em.”

         “Well, now I got ‘em.”

         He huffed and sat down on the couch.

         “Don’t think _Mutt’s_ are supposed ta be on the furniture.” Horror remarked, a stiff smile on his face, sitting next to him.

         It took Mutt a minute to realize he was joking, and he snickered.

         “Well, it’s a _rat_ ty old couch anyway,” Mutt quipped back.

         They both chuckled for a minute, before Horror turned on the TV, putting on a re-run of Psych.

         Mutt kept looking at Horror out of the corner of his eye, and Horror seemed to be doing the same.

_Looks like he’s smarter than most everyone else here._

         After a while, Sans and Edge came down, and sat on the couch as well. There was a noticeable distance they seemed to insist on keeping between them.

         Except there wasn’t enough room, and as Mutt was moving off the couch to supply more space, Horror stood up faster.

         “Here, take my seat.” Horror gestured to the empty couch cushion, and he took a seat on the arm chair.

         “Wha—But, I—I—… What?” Mutt sputtered, completely lost.

         “I said you could have my seat.” Horror re-iterated.

         Mutt gave him a weird look, and poked the cushion, expecting something to happen, but when nothing did, he shrugged and sat down.

         The rest of the night went on in an uncomfortable silence. Mutt could feel a headache blossoming behind his eye sockets, and he groaned, not looking forward to any more of the day.

         He got up, shuffling to the kitchen. He threw open the cabinets, looking for a painkiller, but finding none, he moved on to the other cupboards.

         He growled weakly after he’d searched the whole kitchen, that seemed devoid of any painkillers.

         “What’re ya lookin’ fer?” Horror asked, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe.

         “Uh, just some pain relivers.” Red eyed Horror wearily. _How did he sneak up on me…?_ “Why?”

         “Oh, no reason. The, uh, painkillers are,” Horror nudged past him, and shoved a few bottles out of the way, grabbing one with a blue-label and handing it to Mutt. “Right here.”

         Mutt didn’t take them. He just stared at Horror, at the strained smile, at the enlarged red iris that seemed to be watching his every movement, and at the gaping hole in his head.

         “Why?”

         Horror raised a browbone. “Do you mean, why are the painkillers right there? Well, I put them there after using them, because I found them there.”

         Mutt shook his head. “Why are you being polite to me, completely unprovoked?”

         Mutt couldn’t understand it.

         Literally, the first thing Horror saw him do was tear into a human carcass, proving that he was dangerous, so he should be keeping his distance, right?? And they didn’t know each other well, so he shouldn’t be going out of his way to bump into him, right?

         “Uh, because? You don’t ever make friends from being a jackass. My brother told me that.” He paused. “Well, I changed some words.”

         Mutt shook his head, snatching the pill bottle from Horror’s hand, muttering.

         He ignored how the smile tugged a little more genuinely on Horror’s face.

         Mutt swallowed a few pills dry, and waited for Horror to leave the kitchen, before he followed.

         Mutt didn’t see Edge or Sans on the couch where he’d left them. He tried to relax, remembering Edge’s words earlier, and that they weren’t in any danger here.

         He leaned back into the couch, next to Horror.

         Despite himself, he felt his eyes drooping.

         He was sitting next to a stranger! He shouldn’t be falling asleep! He didn’t know him, he could try and do something while he was asleep!

         But Mutt’s eyes wouldn’t stay open, and soon enough, he fell asleep.

 

*       *       *

 

         The next morning Mutt woke up, wanting to die. It was a little surprising that no other persona took over control, but then again, no one else really wanted to deal with his hang over. So, he got to enjoy skull-splitting pain and unsure company.

         Hooray for him!

         Mutt cracked open his eyes.

         He was still on the couch, the TV was turned off, and there was food left on the coffee table.

         It was a bowl of cereal, not even soggy yet.

         Who thought of that? He could’ve woken up hours later, and then the milk in the bowl would be spoiled, and the cereal would’ve been gross and mushy.

         He would still eat it, but, that’s beside the point.

         There was a note next to it, saying that Sans, Edge and Papyrus had work today, and they didn’t have any more vacation days left.

         He wondered if all of them figured Mutt would be gone by now.

         He looked at the note again, then shrugged, downing the bowl of cereal, not even bothering with the spoon.

         “Hungry?” Horror asked, sitting on the couch beside Mutt, who promptly choked on his cereal.

         _How does he keep sneaking up on me?!_

Horror chuckled, glancing at Mutt’s eye lights before turning on the TV, dialing the volume down low enough that it was hard to tell what the people on screen were saying. “Sorry, didn’t mean ta scare ya outta yer _skin_.”

         Despite himself, Mutt gave a weak smile when he realized that Horror didn’t sound slighted when he saw that Mutt was still replacing Red currently.

         He shook his head, dispelling the feeling of gratitude, and he glared. “You don’t just sneak up on people when they’re eating!” His voice sounded like it was scraping the inside of his skull with needles.

         Horror shrugged, slumping against the arm rest, groaning quietly.

         Mutt paused, glaring at Horror, before sighing. “What?”

         “I’ve got this really shitty headache. So’s my bro, so he’s staying in bed.”

         Mutt raised his brow bone. “Why didn’t _you_?”

         Horror lifted his head, giving Mutt a strained smile. “Gotta check on you, right?” Mutt frowned. Did Horror think he was going to do something reckless if he wasn’t supervised? “Plus, I wanted food,” Horror added, looking back to the TV.

         Mutt gave a startled laugh. “Well, that’s always important.”

         _This guy is so weird._

         Mutt started to relax a little more as time went on, and they both stayed quiet, silently suffering through their pain together.

         It was surprisingly a very good bonding exercise.

         Hours passed in this format, the show still buzzing on in the background, the room shrouded in darkness, both of them taking a few painkillers.

         “So,” Horror said eventually, when both their headaches were reduced to a low throbbing. “What are you like?”

         Mutt made a face. “You read the guide, didn’t you?”

         Horror shrugged, turning his head to stare at the TV. “There wasn’t much there. Besides, isn’t it more polite to ask, instead of just reading it off a paper?”

         Mutt blinked.

         Honestly, yeah, he had found it a bit irking that Red/Sans was just asking him about what he was like for a freaking guide, but he got over it. No one could really stay too mad at him forever. He did view it a bit rude, since he’d much rather get to know someone the traditional way, without them having an unfair advantage of knowing more than just his name. (Even though he didn’t have a name to start with, but that’s beside the point.)

         “What’s up with you?” Mutt asked, ignoring the previous question. “What’s your deal?”

         Horror turned to look at him fully. “I told you. I’m just a monster trying to get through society without fucking people over.”

         “But _why_?”

         Horror shrugged, aggravating Mutt even more.

         “But that—that doesn’t—it—it doesn’t make any sense! Why?? Why would you choose to live that way, when surely you—”

         Horror placed a hand on his shoulder, shutting Mutt up immediately.

         “You over-thinking this. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta take an answer without asking why.”

         Mutt frowned. “Yeah… Well, I mean, Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Mutt crossed his arms, glaring at the floor. He knew that sometimes, _occasionally_ he might overthink things that really don’t need to be over thought, but it was hard not to.

         “Hey, but I mean, that’s easy to fix when you catch yourself. You just have to know when you’re overthinking, and when you’re not.”

         Horror gave his shoulder a few more pats, and Mutt sighed.

         “Alright.”

         Mutt’s mind was buzzing. Who was this monster exactly? Why was he helping him with his issues? Why was _Mutt_ the one that caught this monster’s attention, leading him to lend him a helping hand. Did it have to do with Red’s drunken confession a few nights ago?

         Horror punched him lightly. It was just a friendly bap, so Mutt shouldn’t be bristling like he was, why was he freaking out, Horror isn’t a _threat_ — “Hey, I can _see_ the gears turning in your head. Calm down. Just breathe, alright?”

         Mutt did as he was told, and eventually the dizzying thoughts were brought down to a minimum.

         “Better?” Horror asked, searching his face for… something.

         “Yeah… Um thanks.” He muttered, glaring to the side.

         Truth be told, he was just embarrassed that he had to be calmed down by someone he practically didn’t know.

         “Good. You’re welcome.” Horror turned back to watch the show. It seemed to be playing a musical now, but it was still Psych.

         Mutt glanced at Horror to see him smiling, but his face was still pointed forwards.

         He still wasn’t sure what to make of this guy.

         But maybe… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?

         Maybe he could… give him a chance. Take the easy answer.

         But then that would entail a lasting relationship that’s often called a friendship, and honestly, Mutt wasn’t sure how to do that.

         What did friends even do anyways?!

         Just sit and talk? Did they have to do things together? Isn’t sitting and talking something to do together? Or better yet just sitting?? Or, is that a sign of intolerance or indifference?

_Augghhhhh this is so confusing!!_

         Horror snapped his fingers in his face. “Yo. Mutt. Stop it. How many times do I have to tell you to stop overthinking things? Whatever it is, just say it out loud, and we’ll sort it out.”

         Mutt blinked, sighing. “Uh… Well…” If he wanted to be friends, then he couldn’t just say nothing about it. He needed to bring it into light, right?

         …

         No forget it.

         “Never mind. It’s not important.” Mutt shook his head, and looked back at the TV, not actually listening or seeing the things on it.

         “Are you sure? Because if it’s bothering you—” Horror asked, situating himself so he could more comfortably look at Mutt.

         “I said it’s not important!” Mutt cut off, snarling.

         Horror held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Woah, okay, I’m sorry.”

         Mutt glared for a minute, before looking away again, shrinking in on himself.

         “If… If you ever wanna talk, then you’ve got me here. In case everything is too much…?” Horror said hesitantly, unsure if Mutt was going to lash out.

         Which was a sensible fear, because Mutt felt like he very well could lash out any moment.

         _Pushy, isn’t he? Why is he treating me like this again? I don’t think he ever gave me the answer I wanted._

         Mutt didn’t respond to Horror, he only sunk lower into his jacket fluff, creating an effective barrier of floof between the two.

         “Why?” Mutt growled eventually.

         He just _couldn’t_ **understand** _!!_

**Why** _?? Why was he being so_ **kind** _?!_

         Horror smiled his _stupid_ caring smile, as if he actually gave a damn about Mutt, (yeah right, like Mutt would _ever_ be cared for). “Because,” He said. “Friends listen to each other when they’ve got a problem. Don’t they?”

         His words might as well have just punched Mutt in the “stomach”, because he felt the world shift and he stopped breathing for a second.

         _Friend?? Does he mean that?! He can’t! He can’t possibly mean that. And why would Horror care about his problems?_

_WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HIM??!!_

Mutt couldn’t understand. No matter how hard he tried puzzling through the pieces, he just couldn’t _understand_.

         Why? What’s… What was he talking about?

         “Mutt?” He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

         He whipped around, biting the hand on immediate reflex. He heard a muffled curse but felt no struggling.

         He could feel the strain of repressed magic thrumming through the carpals and metacarpals of the hand.

         Wait. Who’s hand?

         Mutt blinked away the hazy red that clouded his vision, revealing Horror, eyes wide.

         He opened his jaw, releasing his hand. Bone marrow and blood trickled down from the shark-like bite mark that now adorned his hand.

         Without thinking, Mutt licked the fluids off Horror’s hand, greeted with the familiar metallic taste that he never got tired of.

         He paused and realized what he was doing. “Oh sweet stars, I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t mean t-to—” Mutt caved.

         “Mutt, it’s _okay_ ,” Horror insisted. “I’m fine. See?” Horror waved his injured hand around, playing off the pain like it was the nothing he claimed it to be.

         Mutt didn’t answer, to stricken with the horror (heh) of what he’d done.

         Horror paused, and hesitantly held out his arms in a way of offering a hug.

         Mutt blinked. What—What was he—?

         Was he offering a hug? After Mutt had just _bitten_ him? He should’ve been _punished_ , not…

         _Not_ _forgiven_.

**Never forgiven.**

         And yet… Here he was. Offered not a second, but a third chance? Maybe even fourth? He wasn’t sure just how many times he’d screwed up around Horror, but _each_ _fucking_ _time_ , he was forgiven.

         Like it didn’t matter.

         Like it was fine.

         Why couldn’t Mutt just move on like Horror seemed to do just fine?

         Or, better yet, why couldn’t Horror just hate him?? It would be so much easier.

         Without another thought, Mutt leaned forward and latched onto Horror like a life-line, decidedly ignoring how Albert had left in a similar way.

         “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t understand, I’m sorry I bit you, I’m sorry I’m a jackass.” Mutt mumbled apology after apology, for what felt like the longest five minutes of his life, until he finally quieted down.

         Horror hugged Mutt back, just as tightly. “It’s okay. Listen to me at least once: it’s okay. It’ll be okay. It’s not unfixable.”

         Mutt relaxed and listened.

         He listened and listened until he heard nothing but snores.

         Mutt pulled back, holding Horror upright with his hands on his shoulders.

         Horror had fallen asleep.

         Mutt snickered, then situated them so Horror was in his lap, Mutt’s arms wrapped protectively around the one monster that had enough time and took the opportunity to lower his guard, and sneak into Mutt’s life. He tried not to question what he had and why he had it. He tried to just be happy, he really did.

         He had a friend! And the Horror had said it, too! They were official friends now!

         That was odd. But he wasn’t complaining! Horror treated him as an equal! Nothing was better than that! Nothing that he could think of at the moment at least… Maybe there was something else?

         But that didn’t matter, because equals didn’t have to give one more than the other, and they could both talk without one fearing betrayal or backstabbing.

         Equals could be friends! Which could possibly be one of the best things.

         Mutt always wanted a friend…

         He felt a nagging feeling in the back of his head, and he shivered. He tried to ignore the feeling.

         What would they do now?? Was there some friendship activity they had to do first before becoming friends for life? Or was there a declaration, a written speech, or something like that?

         Oh, they were going to have so much fun together! Even if they just were doing nothing, they could do nothing together!

         It was one of Mutt’s favorite activities, too.

         His thoughts started to wonder, and he thought what would happen if someone tried to interrupt his friendship bonding time. Well, that couldn’t be allowed right? Were there rules? There were rules in everything else anyway, so maybe friendships had rules too.

         Well, he had better start learning them!

         Nothing could separate him from his newly found friend! He had just gotten his first friend in _forever_ , and he wasn’t just going to let them go!

         He heard a knock at the door.

         He jumped up from the couch, slinging Horror over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. It was difficult because they were practically the same height, but Mutt still had a few extra inches, along with heightened strength to his name. So, it wasn’t too much of a hassle.

         Mutt went to the front and opened the door, a bone attack in hand (just in case), revealing a worn-out looking Sans.

         “You good?” Mutt asked when Sans didn’t say anything.

         Sans nodded dumbly, staring at his eye sockets.

         “Oh, yeah, I’m still very much here. Thanks. Anyway, this is your house, so come in.”

         Mutt moved aside so Sans could walk in, who promptly flopped onto the couch, leaning back.

         Mutt sat down on the opposite side of the couch, repositioning Horror to sit back on his lap.

         Sans shot him a questioning look, and Mutt grinned.

         “We’re friends now!” Mutt shouted gleefully, not caring how out of character it sounded.

         Sans chuckled and turned his attention to the TV, his eye lights never leaving Mutt, seeming fully relaxed. But the shallow clicking of his fingers on his ulna spoke volumes.

         Mutt didn’t feel the need to explain himself to Sans, so he didn’t. Red and some of the other personalities may be close to Sans, but Mutt wasn’t too attached to many people. Sans was _not_ on the very, _very_ short list.

         Currently, the list only held two people: Edge and Horror.

         And Mutt couldn’t be happier.

         **_H-hey, um Mutt, m-maybe you should l-let Red come back out f-for a while…_**

         _Why?_

_**W-well, h-he’d freak out again i-if he went another two weeks, or more, with no memory.**_

         Mutt considered that.

         Okay, there were three people on the list: Edge, Horror, and Red.

         He doesn’t want Red freaking out, because when Red freaks out, everyone in his head freaks out, and then his anxiety kicks in, and then the Sans in Red’s head shows up.

         And Mutt still wasn’t too much of a fan of him.

         But, Mutt doesn’t want to leave Horror either. They just became friends! You can’t just leave friends behind!

         They have to get a stable bond before anything else could be established or changed!

         Horror seemed lonely, and if they were friends, then leaving Horror behind would hurt him, too.

         Mutt wasn’t sure what to do now.

         Sans must’ve seen the conflict on Mutt’s face, because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

         Mutt sighed, sinking into the couch, hoping it would swallow him, but also, hoping it didn’t.

         “It’s Horror and Red.”

         Sans raised a brow bone, turning around fully to face him. Mutt looked over at Sans.

         “What about ‘em?” Sans asked, and Mutt might have imagined it, but thought he saw a shadow cross over Sans’s face. A shadow of what, he wasn’t sure. But it was definitely something ugly.

         But as soon as he saw it, it was gone.

         Mutt shook his head, figuring it was just his paranoia.

         “Well, Horror is my first friend ever, and it seems wrong just to leave him behind. There’s so many things we could do that friends do, even though I’m not sure what those are. But, I also can’t stay forever, because I know no one else really wants me around that much. I’m sure you guys would prefer Red. So, I’m not sure what to do.”

         Mutt surprised himself with how much he talked. He usually tries to say little to nothing, and sticks to growls or purrs. It was easier than talking, since he’s never quite understood words or intricate words and full sentances.

         He was glad that it’s easier for him now, but it made him uncomfortable. Like some part of him was drifting away. Something that made Mutt himself. He felt the full-body shudder again. The nagging feeling came back and didn’t leave this time.

         He was sure it was nothing though.

         Just his paranoia.

         It’s always just his paranoia, isn’t it?

         He shook his head, as if trying to dispel the thoughts like cobwebs.

         Sans seemed to be surprised at Mutt’s answer to his question. “Well, you know that Horror would support your decision, and he’d more than likely remember you. He doesn’t seem like the type to forget the people he meets.”

         “Well, it’s just… Horror seems so _lonely_ and _sad_. He doesn’t have anyone else, does he?” Mutt asked, searching Sans’s expression.

         “No. He doesn’t. But, he’s never really brought it up before…” Sans rubbed the back of his neck, realizing how short-sighted that sounded.

         They all knew better than most that things left unsaid are just as important as the things spoken. And the things no one talks about could be the things that bother them the most.

         Mutt nodded, and tugged Horror a little closer.

         Mutt felt the same nagging feeling from before. The feeling that he was changing, and that it wasn’t good, because he was disappearing bit by bit, and the things that made him Mutt were slowly unraveling on the cutting board. It wasn’t a good feeling at all.

         He wasn’t sure what to pin the feeling as, so he tried ignoring it again, but it came back stronger and stronger.

         He felt his grip on Horror loosen, and he couldn’t hold himself upright anymore.

         Only then did Mutt realize what was happening.

         He was dying.

         Or, rather, merging back with Red.

         He just barely felt Sans’s hand on his shoulder.

         “Hey, buddy, are you okay? Your eye lights are changing.” Sans’s voice seemed quiet, like someone had wrapped his head in cotton.

         “I don’t wanna go yet…” Mutt’s voice scratched weakly against his throat, and he weakly turned his head to see Sans, apprehension crossing his features.

         “Oh, you’re… Uh, don’t—don’t worry, Mutt, everything’ll be fine, okay?” Sans kept saying meaningless assurances, until Mutt’s breathing slowed.

         He was close, but he wasn’t going to leave just yet.

         “Horror’s too lonely for his own good… Could you fix that...? I think I know someone that could help…”

         As much as it tore Mutt up inside that Horror would get new friends and move on, he knew that it’d be for his own good, and if he had to force that on his only friend, then so be it.

         If Mutt had the energy, then he’d snicker at his ingenious plan.

         He was going to give Horror a sweetheart, and it would be the last thing he’d do.

         Although, technically _he_ wouldn’t be the one giving Horror a sweetheart. It would be Zack.

         He managed to tell Sans the multi-step plan before he just barely lost himself in the void of nothingness.

         He managed to weakly pat Horror on the back, waking him up.

         Mutt saw Horror shift in his darkening vision, but he didn’t feel it.

         Sans shook Horror until the skeleton started grumbling, opening his eyes to glare at Sans. “Why are you wakin’ me up, I was havin’ the nicest dream—”

         Mutt poked Horror in the back with a trembling finger.

         “Hm? Wassup?” Horror asked, moving to get up and stare at Mutt.

         When Horror rubbed his eyes, and he saw Mutt’s eye lights he hesitated. “Uh… You good man?”

         Sans whispered into where Horror’s ear would’ve been, and his eye sockets went wide.

         “Yo, dude, what? You’re not—You can’t—Uh, are you in pain?” Mutt thought about that but twitched his head to each side twice.

         He never noticed before, but his head seemed so heavy. Keeping it upright was taking a lot of energy, so he let it sag against his chest.

         “Are you… actually leaving?” Horror’s voice made Mutt feel obligated to look up at him. The withheld emotion in his voice was showing openly across his face. Regret, sadness, loss, anger, defeat…

         Mutt wanted to hug him, but it felt like weights he couldn't lift were attached to him, weighing him down.

         All Mutt could do was convey the words he wanted to tell him through his eye lights. He hoped that Horror would reach out, because he could transfer his intentions more clearly that way.

         It didn’t seem to be needed, however, as Horror seemed to understand well enough.

         Mutt didn’t think he could form words properly or in complete sentences, but even if he could, he wasn’t sure what there was to be said.

         Should he apologize? But then, he’d have to know what he’s apologizing for, otherwise it’s pointless.

         Should he say goodbye? But that seems a bit… much. It’s too long of a word for his tired ass to figure out, so maybe “bye” would be fitting…

         Mutt didn’t realize his eyes had drifted shut until he felt someone shaking him again.

         Horror’s muddled voice came to him slowly. “…’Ey Mutt… C’mon, stay with me now…”

         Mutt blinked open his eyes, squinting. Everything seemed blurry and gray. He could feel his concentration slipping, and he was just barely holding on. It hurt— _god it **hurt** , his skull was ready to **shatter**_ —but if Horror still needed him, he’d hold on longer. Just a little bit longer…

         Either Mutt was imagining it, or there were tears on the giant blur in front of him.

         Mutt smiled weakly, desperately trying to ignore the mind-numbing pain he was in, and gathered all his strength, reaching out with his lead arms to lightly pat the blur on the side of it’s face.

         “It’s… oka..y,” Mutt whispered, and right before he blacked out he sent a powerful surge of magic to a personality in the subconscious.

         It should be enough to explain why he had called out, and what the plan is.

         Mutt closed his eyes, never re-opening them. He embraced the cold blanket of nothingness with content settled in his soul.

         He had never been afraid of death, even now, when he’s knocking on its door.

         His last thought was that he wondered if Horror could find someone that would suit him well as a companion.

         Then nothing.

 

*       *       *

 

         Red woke up with a gasp, his sockets dark, wheezing for breath, his skull feeling like it was about to shatter. He felt like he had stretched his magical abilities to its limit and then some.

         He was vaguely aware of someone shaking him.

         After his breathing slowed, he let his borderline red/pink eye lights slowly manifest.

         “Red are you—?” He heard Sans cut off, and he swiveled his head to stare at him.

         “Nah, sweetheart, my name’s Zack,” he corrected in a deeper but strangely more pleasant voice.

         Sans didn’t respond, so Zack turned to look at Horror, who had taken a step away from them, covering his head with his jacket hood. Zack noticed the two phalanges hooked into his right eye socket, and how they pulled against the bone. He pointedly ignored that.

         Zack smirked.

         So, this was what Mutt needed him to fix?

         Easy-peasy.

         He jabbed a finger at Horror, who’s red iris was smaller than usual, his grin strained, looking more like a grimace. He ignored that fact.

         “And, I’m here to help _you_ get a date.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this seems kind of repetitive, but I just want all of you guys to know how much all of your support means to me. Words cannot describe how much I appreciate all of the comments and kudos you guys have left me!
> 
> Also, if you guys still have questions for the Q&A, then feel free to ask!


	13. Life is Eventful in the Subconscious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How I imagine Red's subconscious would look like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry I took like a week break, things got pretty hectic! I'm afraid I might have to change my update schedule into something a bit less consistent (not that it was in the first place). I might update every other week instead, but I'm not sure yet. 
> 
> Also, I just wanted to say, thanks for sticking with the story so far! It really means a lot to me ;u;
> 
> And uh, I just wanted to make sure that you guys knew that this is just a work of fiction, and not all of the facts in this story are true, whereas some are? Like, some of this is just how I imagine things would run, and not exactly true.
> 
> And, one more thing, this chapter is dedicated to jisko2ijsko! Thanks for sticking with me so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

         “DID or Dissociative Identity Disorder. Formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder. This disorder usually occurs when someone who’s suffered from an extreme trauma or has PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) starts to “dissociate” with themselves, causing the name “Dissociative Identity Disorder”. The brain begins finding ways to forget the past, and it stores the memories in different parts of the—”

         “Can you write your fiction somewhere else?” Jeffery yawned. “I’m trying to sleep and listening to you is actually keeping me up.” He shifted on the lumpy green sofa Red had owned back in the underground.

         Cherry glared, but it softened at the edge’s when he saw the dark circles that were always under his eye sockets.

         “Jeffery, it’s not fiction. This is what’s happening to Red right now.” He shifted against the white wall that smelt of bleach and crushed dreams, a notepad and pencil in his hands.

         Jeffery yawned again. “Yeah? Well, tell me about it… when I say… I’m… interested…” Jeffery trialed off as he fell asleep.

         Cherry shook his head, smiling at his friend’s sleepy nature, before getting back to work silently.

         Before he could finish, however, he was interrupted by Sans sitting next to him, two feet away, but still closer than he normally would’ve liked, had Cherry been any other person.

         As it was, Sans trusted Cherry very much, and he was glad for it.

         “Hello, Sans. How are you doing?” He asked, his kind smile switching into place when he gazed fondly at the anxious ball of nerves. He set down the paper and pencil, resigned to the fact that he may not finish writing today.

         “I-I’m doing good, h-how about you?” Sans asked, sliding his hands in and out of their sleeves.

         “Fantastic!” Cherry chirped.

         Optimism was always a good way to go about things! While everyone else here didn’t think too highly of that ideal, Cherry often used it as a mantra.

         Sans nodded, giving a weak smile, pulling at both of his sleeves. It was one of his nervous ticks.

         Cherry frowned. “What’s wrong?”

         Sans didn’t answer, looking to the side, hiding his face. “A-am I really _th-that_ transparent?”

         Cherry gave a patient smile. “No, only because I’ve known you for so long is how I know that something is wrong.”

         “O-oh. Okay.”

         Cherry waited. And waited. And waited, until finally he saw Sans open his mouth to speak and…

         Sans coughed.

         Cherry frowned again. “You know, whatever’s bothering you, you can talk to me about it. I don’t judge, you know this. I’ll try and help you if you want me to.”

         Sans sighed, hugging himself.

         “W-well… D-do you th-think Edge… h-hates m-me?” Sans asked, his voice lower than usual, not wanting anyone else to overhear his insecurities, even if they probably already knew.

         Cherry shook his head even before the word “me” was out of Sans’s mouth. He knew what Sans was going to say, and he’d like to pretend that it was because they were really close friends, and not that it was because they were the same person once upon a time.

         “Of course not. You know he doesn’t. You even asked him yourself and he said no.”

         “No, I-I didn’t. I asked h-him to say, “I love you”. Th-there’s a d-difference.”

         “No, there’s not. If he didn’t love you, but he said he did anyway, then Sylvester would’ve told you.”

         Sans’s face fell at the mention of Sylvester. “He w-would’ve, huh.” Sans sighed. “I m-miss him.”

         Cherry’s smile fell. “Yeah. I do, too.”

         Sylvester was someone who wouldn’t hesitate to give it to you straight, and he had made plenty of helpful observations that brought them to where they were today. But he wasn’t the greatest with emotions, but then again, a lot of them weren’t.

         They both were quiet for a moment, and they realized that their existence _was_ only temporary now. They weren’t supposed to be here, and they were being “flushed out” (Fell was the one who called it that, but no one else really liked it).

         Not that the two were against it! They were actually _helping_ for the cause, because it might make Sans and Edge happy, and that’s all either of them would ever want. But, it was weird to know that not in the far future, they’d be gone.

         “Hey, you two dorks, what’cha doin’?” Frank asked, sitting next to them, his red needle point eye lights darting around, drilling into the paper next to Cherry, and Cherry himself.

         It’s not really Frank’s fault that it looks like he’s constantly scrutinizing everything. In reality, he’s not judging anyone but himself. Plus, his eye lights just look really intense, which are what adds to the affect.

         “Not much, Frank, what’re you doing?” Cherry asked, his usual cheer laced back into his voice.

         Frank shrugged. “Oh, y’know. Just goin’ around. Talkin’ with people. I don’t got anythin’ else to do.”

         It is pretty boring in the subconscious.

         Usually, they’d all gather around the TV that showed everything that Red was seeing, and Sylvester would point out little things that were lies, and what they actually meant. It was fun. Unless you count Harp’s complaining. That’s never fun to listen to.

         “Y-you c-could stick around a-and talk w-with us, i-if you’d l-like to,” Sans offered, giving Frank his best imitation of Cherry’s smile.

         Frank looked relived. It may have already looked like he was sitting and talking with them, but Sans knew better.

         There were just certain things that needed to be said to them for anyone to really feel comfortable with where they were. Unless they were Fell, Beth, Evan, or Harp each un-caring of their surroundings for their own reasons.

         “So, what’s the daily gossip, you guys?” Frank asked, leaning forward, grinning. Of course, he was still mindful of Sans’s space.

         Everyone here was. No one was _that_ cruel. Not even Fell, thankfully.

         Cherry and Sans grinned back. Whenever you wanted to hear some gossip, you went to Cherry and Sans. They both had ways of figuring out secrets and telling everyone what it was right after they figured it out.

         Word traveled fast in the subconscious, and it was because of two chatter boxes.

         Before Cherry could tell him, however, Beth and Evan stopped by. Beth was dragging Evan by the foot, and Evan was staring off into the space that made up the sky above their heads.

         “Do you guys know where the TV is?” Beth asked, glancing side-to-side. “It always seems to move around.”

         Cherry pointed in the opposite direction. “It’s over there. Just keep weaving around trash piles, and you’ll find it.”

         “Thanks.”

         Beth sighed, and turned around, still dragging Evan who didn’t once protest.

         It wasn’t unusual to see Beth dragging Evan. Evan never really moved that much on his own, so Beth took it upon herself to move him. He never said anything against that treatment, so she kept doing it.

         The two were practically inseparable.

         Cherry shook his head, smiling, and opened his mouth to start talking again, but was interrupted by Fell pushing Jeffery off the couch.

         “Dude! Uncool! I was trying to sleep!” Jeffery flailed his arms and legs in an attempt to get up.

         “Yeah, well now you’re not.” Fell stretched himself across the couch, taking up the entire sofa.

         Jeffery glared at Fell. “You better move, or else I’m gonna sit on you.”

         At this point, everyone was watching them. Cherry passed some popcorn to everyone, and they started to chew loudly, much like the annoying people in the movie theater.

         Fell yawned, but otherwise didn’t move.

         Jeffery got up, grumbling and sat down on Fell’s chest.

         He flailed his arms much like how Jeffery did, and shoved him off himself. “Dude! What the fuck?!”

         If anyone here could actually be hurt or killed, then Jeffery probably would’ve been extremely injured by now.

         “I wasn’t joking!” Jeffery shouted, crossing his arms.

         “Obviously!” Fell crossed his arms as well, but still didn’t move.

         “Just move! Just move and I won’t sit on you again!” Jeffery shouted, red in the face.

         Cherry blinked. He’d never seen Jeffery so mad before.

         Sans got up and walked away to go watch the TV. Cherry stayed behind with everyone else, curious to see how this would play out.

         Sans never liked watching violence. It made him uncomfortable and reminded him too much of his past.

He made his way around small trash piles and socks laying on the ground. He wasn’t in any rush.

         Sans wondered what everyone else was doing.

         He wondered what it felt like to be merged back into Red. Would it hurt? Would it feel calm, or relaxing? Or would it be… not that?

         He didn’t want to go. It was like death. The kind of finality at the “end of their lives”. He still wanted to see everyone else and see how the future would treat them.

         He hoped he wouldn’t be forgotten.

         Sans stopped that train of thought and stood by the second couch positioned in front of the TV.

         It looked like Mutt was still active. The TV was showing what Mutt was seeing through his eyes and the corners were clouded with the shade of red of Mutt’s eye lights.

         He was currently sitting on the couch next to Sans with Horror on his lap. With the way he seemed to be thinking (his thoughts were subtitles on the screen), Mutt completely forgot that he still needed to let Red come out and breathe for a bit.

         He grabbed the microphone that was hooked up to the TV that they often used to say their opinions loud enough so that Red, or whoever else was in charge of the body’s main functions, could hear them.

         “H-hey, um, Mutt, m-maybe you should l-let Red come back out f-for a while…” Sans said. He didn’t want Mutt to yell at him for suggesting that, but it was kind of important. 10 8 4 2

         **_Why?_** Mutt’s voice thundered around them. He flinched at how loud it was.

         “W-well, h-he’d freak out i-if he went another two weeks with no memory,” Sans explained, fiddling with his sleeve.

         Sans waited for an answer, but when he got none, he turned off the microphone and set it down.

         He looked at the couch that Beth and Evan were sitting on.

         “W-what did I m-miss? W-what’s happened so far?”

         “Well, Mutt made a new friend,” Evan said, his voice laced with such apathy that not even the most extreme situation could break.

         “O-oh? H-how did they m-mange that?” Sans asked, sitting on the carpeted floor in front of the couch.

         “Horror managed to be really nice to Mutt, and he kept offering support until Mutt finally broke, and now he won’t really let Horror leave his side.” Beth frowned. “He’s really clingy.”

         Sans shrugged and kept his eye lights fixed ahead at the TV.

         “A-any news about M-Mango?” He asked.

         “Why are you asking us? Aren’t you and Cherry the gossipers that know _everything_ , _all_ the time?” Evan teased, the perpetual boredom and dysphoria never quite leaving his tone of voice.

         Sans rolled his eyes. “I was a-asking because I haven’t b-been attached to th-this couch for the past few days, like I u-usually am. I was b-being helpful instead,” Sans said proudly, puffing out his chest.

         Beth nodded, and told Sans that Mango was probably coming down with a sickness.

         “He hasn’t left his bed yet.”

         “But that could be his hangover,” Evan pointed out.

         “Yeah, but, the worst of it should be over, and Mango is like Papyrus. Energetic, and strong. I doubt a little hangover would affect him much.”

         “He passed out drinking.”

         She crossed her arms, frowning. “So did Sans, and he’s even working today.”

         Sans snickered at their bickering, and he stood up.

         “Y-you wouldn’t mind t-telling me if Mutt c-comes back, would you?” Sans asked, about to leave.

         “Of course!” Beth chirped, and Evan grunted, drifting off into sleep, despite not ever needing it.

         Sans smiled and walked off in a random direction. It seemed to resemble the lab Red used to work at with Gaster. Sans didn’t really mind it here, but almost everyone else did.

         The different settings of Red’s subconscious were made up of places he’s seen before, even if he couldn’t remember them if he tried. So, there was a place in Red’s mind that resembled the underground (which Sans avoided parts of it like the plague—most of them did, actually) and the surface. It was fun to see the different stores and scenery, and the park Red used to visit on the regular was really relaxing.

         Sans had to ignore the questions flying through his head, and the memories pressing at the edge of his mind, like he always did.

         It always felt like his own conscious was a dam, and the questions and memories are just about ready to over-flow and come crashing down on this false sense of security he keeps hiding behind.

         “Hey! Hey, Sans!” A high voice called, snapping him out of his daze.

         “Y-yes?” He asked, nervously, looking around for the person the voice belonged to.

         “Could you come here for a second?” It sounded like Harp.

         Sans walked around a doorway, and saw dusty cots lined up next to each other, machines beside each one.

         Harp was laying down in one, waving at him. Why, exactly, was a good question. They weren’t comfortable in the slightest, and it was pretty creepy in this particular room. Harp was always complaining about creepy things too, so, what was he doing here?

         “W-what do y-you need, Harp?” Sans asked, fidgeting with his sleeves to keep his hands busy.

         “You wouldn’t mind helping me out of this cot, would you?” Harp asked, smiling.

         Well, it’s not like he’d have a choice in the matter. Or, well, he would, but if he said no, then Harp would complain all day, and probably hold a grudge.

         And Sans didn’t want that.

         So, Sans lifted Harp up with his blue magic (thankfully, that ability wasn’t hindered in the slightest, otherwise, he’d have to get someone else to help Harp out. Even though Harp could do it himself).

         “Thanks! You’re a real pal. Y’know, I would’ve done it myself, but with my—”

         “W-with your b-bad back, yes I kn-know,” Sans interrupted politely. It always annoyed him how Harp pounced on every opportunity to complain about something, even if it wasn’t true.

         Harp smiled, his eye lights sparking, and walked away into one of the back rooms that the lights never shined in.

         Maybe because, whenever Red had seen that room, it was always dark. So, no one was sure what was in that part of the lab. Not many cared enough to find out though.

         Sans continued walking, ignoring the sound of footsteps behind him, despite how it made his back crawl, and his nerves flare up. It reminded him of a different time when someone was behind him without his knowledge…

         He knew it was just the hallway playing tricks on him. It did that to everyone. It was part of Red’s memories.

         The only time Red had walked down this particular hallway, he had been followed by a child that had escaped one of the testing chambers. Of course, Red didn’t know that, so when the child was within hearing distance he had been caught off-guard, and his immediate assumption was that someone was running to attack him. It had happened to him before, so why wouldn’t it happen again?

         Red had launched an attack before he could get a good look at the escaped test-subject. He had been punished for not keeping them alive, and Red had to temporarily replace the subject. Thankfully, it was only trying out different medications to see what they’d do, and most of them were just for stress relief or drowsiness pills. Unfortunately, some of them had lasting effects that had yet to wear off, despite all the time that’s past. And, one of the last pills he’d taken had nearly dusted him. It was one of the many failed medications to reduce a monster’s LoVe. And, sure, it lowered his LV down to 1, but it also lowered the rest of his stats with it. Possibly the only reason they hadn’t dwindled lower was because of his brother.

         His brother had healed him, forcefully keeping him in bed and passive-aggressively ignoring the letters telling Red to get back to work. Edge had also gone easy on the complaints for the next few days, instead showing that he was capable of doing everything he asked Red to do for him. Except cook.

         Red stuck to cooking, not letting his brother in the kitchen.

         Sans kept walking, avoiding doorways and turning corners.

         Eventually he reached the elevator that would take him up to the main lab that Alphys would usually be in, if she wasn’t messing with her “subjects” in the True Lab.

         What surprised him, though, was that he found Zack near the almost empty vending machine, furiously punching in buttons and shoving his money into it, only for it to spit it back out.

         “Oh, come on you stupid thing!” Zack kicked the bottom of the machine, but the bag of popato chisps wouldn’t budge.

         Sans walked over to him, clearing his throat.

         Zack whipped around, his pinkish-red eye lights sparking, before he settled down when he saw who it was.

         “Oh. Hey, Sans. I was just uh,” Zack glared at the machine. “trynna get my lunch, but this pile a junk had other plans.”

         Sans snickered and shuffled behind the machine where he could easily pull the rusted plate off the back. He reached up to grab the bag of chisps, bringing them back to Zack.

         “H-here you go. I u-usually raid the vending m-machine when I got t-time,” he explained when Zack looked confused.

         Zack shrugged and grabbed the chisps, mindful of Sans’s fingers.

         “Thanks, Sweetheart,” Zack purred, opening the bag.

         “Y-yer very w-welcome.”

         Sans waited for a moment, before pressing the button to the elevator. As he waited for it to come back down, he idly chatted with Zack.

         Well, more accurately, Sans talked, and Zack flirted.

         Sans didn’t mind the flirting too much, but he was sure that Zack would’ve made further advances if Sans wasn’t as against touch.

         Thankfully, Zack respected his wishes, much like everyone else around him.

         Not everyone may like Sans, but they didn’t necessarily hate him enough to touch him. Which, he thanked everyone for.

         Fell said he didn’t care, but everyone knew he did. He was really just a big softie. Especially for cats. He loved cats.

         You just had to get to know him without him hating you. If one thing about someone rubbed him the wrong way, he’d be exactly what he looked and sounded like. A jackass with no empathy or kindness in his soul for anyone besides himself.

         No one was too mean to each other in the mind space. After all, they had to spend quite a while in each other’s company. It was like a giant family, actually.

         They were all really close, and it stung when Jack was the first to leave. Even if Jack mostly stuck to himself, and didn’t hang around the TV, like practically everyone else did, it still hurt the people closest to him.

         Maybe Cherry wasn’t as affected, but Jeffery, Fell, Zack, and Sans were heartbroken.

         It was hard for all of them, but it hurt Zack the most. You could wonder why, but you would know if you had ever seen the two of them together.

         Zack wasn’t the same after he left. It was saddening to see. Zack’s flirting had kind of tapered down and he wasn’t as smooth as he’d been when Jack was around.

         Would Beth or Evan take it that hard when either of them had to leave?

         Then Sans wondered what it would be like if he was the last one left.

         How lonely would it be? How quiet?

         Having his family leave him behind…

         Granted, it wouldn’t be their choice, but… How much time would he have to spend alone?

         He felt a rush of magic around him, and he swiveled his head to stare at Zack, who currently was kneeling on the ground, fizzling away.

         Sans tried not to panic, because he’s seen this before. Heck, it’s happened to _himself_ before! This was just what it looked like when someone was being brought to the fore-front of the mind, replacing Red for the time being.

         Sans waved at Zack, who smiled and waved back before fizzling away completely.

         Sans wondered what Zack would be doing. He stuffed the discarded chisps bag into his jacket pocket to save for later.

         The elevator dinged, and he walked into it, the doors sliding closed automatically.

         When he reached the top, he wandered around the lab still lost in thought.

         Since Zack left, did that mean Mutt was back? The buzzing feeling in the back of his head told him no.

         Sans sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets, hiding a good half of his face behind his jacket fluff.

         He teleported to his room back in the house they used to own in the underground, not even bothering to finish the elevator ride.

         Sans slid down to the ground, leaning against the door. He watched as Red’s chest rose and fell, content and asleep still in the subconscious.

         He wondered what Red was dreaming about.

         Sans wondered when it would be his turn to go. Would Cherry go first?

         Would he be the last?

         He sighed.

         Life was eventful in the subconscious, as it turned out.

         Sans fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, once again the Q&A is always open! If you want then you could gift or just talk to everyone, including the personas, or 'alters', as I've recently found out they're called.


	14. Hiatus

Hey you guys. Sorry this has taken me so long! It's been, what, a month? Maybe more? I dunno. (Even this little note took me days to write.)

But, yeah. Writer's block is a bitch and it's really hitting me hard. And so is my school-work, apparently. 

So, I'm going to have to take a break from this story until my life calms down (however long that'll take)! But, whenever I get a break and I feel motivated enough to write, I definitely will! So, there might be a few chapters here and there, but there might not be. Who knows.

But in the meantime, I hope you all have a wonderful however-long-it'll-be-until-I-see-you-again!

And you are great! Yes, you, the person reading this. You mean a lot to me, and it brightens my day every time I hear from you! 

I'll be seeing you around!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first chapter done. I swear, this'll hopefully make more sense next chapter, it'll probably provide some context for ya. Maybe not though. Anyway I hope you enjoyed! I'll probably update next week if I can.


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